


The Gambler

by Chibs



Series: Side A [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biphobia, Depression, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Florist Kyoutani, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Kyoutani's family, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, School teacher Yahaba, There's the KyouHaba you've been waiting for, Yahaba starts out with a girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12587404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibs/pseuds/Chibs
Summary: Yahaba’s eyes finally focused on Kyoutani, and he could visibly see the change in his expression as his eyes widened ever so slightly, mouth parting just a bit; he could have sworn Yahaba’s eyes brightened.“You make their arrangements?” Kyoutani gave a small nod that was returned with a shy smile. “You do beautiful work, Kyoutani-san. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”Looking back on it, it was in that very moment that Kyoutani could probably mark himself as completely fucked.





	1. Thanks, Oikawa

**Author's Note:**

> _I swear when I grow up, I won't just buy you a rose._  
>  _I will buy the flower shop, and you will never be lonely._  
>  _Even if the sun stopped waking up over the fields_  
>  _I will not leave, I will not leave 'till it's our time._  
>  _So just take my hand, you know that I will never leave your side._

Winter hit Tokyo particularly hard this year, and in January Kyoutani finds himself leaning over the counter of his flower shop flipping through the photos on his smartphone; he figures 1,000 photos of Yahaba over the course of a year might be just a tiny bit ridiculous, so he’s dedicated this downtime to deleting the unnecessary ones. (Unnecessary was Kiyoko’s choice in words, not his, though the embarrassment of her finding his photo stash was still heavy on his mind.) He quickly finds that even the bad ones are difficult to get rid of. He comes across a set that Yahaba had taken of Kyoutani on another slow day in the shop one summer afternoon and feels the corner of his mouth raise into a small smile. He hated photos of himself, but couldn’t bring himself to get rid of these. Why Yahaba had even been taking pictures on Kyoutani’s phone he couldn’t even remember, and it really didn’t matter.

Alternatively, he still recalls in vivid detail the first day they had met, just over a year ago in December; it had been during a particularly busy week (due to the holidays) in which he and his employees were rushing around frantically in an attempt to keep on top of their workloads. Kiyoko had called him to the counter to review an order, and as he finished looking over the details she had scrawled down, a jingling came from the front of the store. He looked up to find Oikawa Tooru beaming at him from the entrance, but before Kyoutani could properly make an exaggerated display out of his distaste for the man, Oikawa’s companion caught his eye; just as tall as Oikawa, but with a softer face and lighter brown hair. The newcomer looked around curiously as Oikawa practically bounced up to the counter, recapturing Kyoutani’s attention.

“ _Kyouken-chan_ ~~” he sang in that childish voice that Kyoutani hated so much. “Boy, am I glad to see you here today!”

“I’m _always_ here.” He scowled, tapping his pen on the counter. He had long ago given up telling Oikawa not to call him by that nickname. “I _live_ here, in the apartment upstairs. Now what do you want?”

Oikawa feigned hurt with a huff, but his bright smile was back in record time. He clapped his hands together before leaning into the florist’s space; it was then that Kyoutani noticed Kiyoko had absconded, as she usually did when Oikawa appeared. He really couldn’t blame her.

“Ken-chan, so rude! I bring my precious kouhai here to meet you, and this is how you treat me?”

“Tooru, we’re not in high school anymore.” Oikawa’s companion had made it to the counter, though his eyes were still passing over the flowers and vases that lined every inch of the small shop. From this close, Kyoutani could see that his eyes with the same soft brown as his hair; there didn’t seem to be anything remarkable about this man, but something about him kept Kyoutani’s attention. Something about him was still very _pretty_. “It’s been _years_. I’m not your kouhai anymore.”

“Rude, Shige-chan, _ruuuude_!” Once again, Oikawa huffed, but soon he sighed in defeat. “Well, anyway. Ken-chan, this is Yahaba Shigeru, an old friend from high school. Shige-chan, Kyoutani Kentarou. He’s the florist we use for the company, the one who made those bouquets and arrangements you loved so much.”

Yahaba’s eyes finally focused on Kyoutani, and he could visibly see the change in his expression as his eyes widened ever so slightly, mouth parting just a bit; he could have sworn Yahaba’s eyes brightened.

“ _You_ make their arrangements?” He sounded much more surprised than disbelieving. Kyoutani gave a small nod that was returned with a shy smile. “You do beautiful work, Kyoutani-san. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Looking back on it, it was in that very moment that Kyoutani could probably mark himself as completely fucked. There was nothing necessarily remarkable about Yahaba Shigeru, yet somehow he had a unique beauty that made Kyoutani not want to take his eyes off him. He recalled a conversation he had had years ago with the previous owner of the shop as she told him about her late husband.

 _“It wasn’t love at first sight, don’t get me wrong, Ken...but when I saw him for the first time, I just_ knew _that if I didn’t get to know this man, I would be missing someone amazing.”_

He hadn’t put a lot of stock into what she said at the time, it had sounded like a more modest version of _love at first sight_ , but now he knew exactly what she had been talking about.

Kyoutani also recalled, with a fair amount of disgust, the very smug and knowing smirk that was plastered across Oikawa’s face for the rest of the encounter. He still wouldn't admit to himself that without Oikawa sticking his nose into other people’s business, he may have never met Yahaba Shigeru, the man who would become the love of his young life.

When the two left the shop that day, he didn’t think he’d ever see Yahaba again, but just a few weeks later, only one year ago, Yahaba had returned on a slow day in January looking for a bouquet for his mother’s birthday. One visit for a gift turned into another for an arrangement for his classroom, turned into _another_ visit for another gift, until one day he came in just to talk, and the two talked for what seemed like hours. Yahaba had met and fallen in love with Kyoutani’s dogs, and somehow the two exchanged numbers. Yahaba insisted on taking a contact photo, and Kyoutani easily agreed, snapping one of his own. It was that same photo that he found himself staring at now, the very first picture he had ever taken of Yahaba.

He remembered receiving the first text from him, how he had paced around nervously after responding, terrified of making a fool out of himself. They had texted back and forth all night, and constantly from that point on. He remembered the butterflies in his stomach the first time Yahaba invited him to hang out outside of the flower shop, and how cute he had looked in his oversized sweater. In the freezing weather, they found themselves rained in at a shopping outlet where they people watched, laughing while waiting for the storm to pass. That day led into more and more outings together, coffee shop visits and adventures to local restaurants neither of them had had a reason to visit before meeting the other. Though, their time lounging on couches watching television had to be some of his favorite moments.

He couldn’t help the way his smile widened. He didn’t even hear the bell jingling from the entrance until someone was right in front of him.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Kyoutani couldn’t keep from jumping at the familiar voice. Yahaba laughed at him, leaning on the counter with his elbows.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“ _Yet you did it anyway_ ,” he practically growled, but the lack of any real malice in his voice made Yahaba laugh even more. Kyoutani loved his laugh. It was number three on his list of _Reasons I’m In Love With Yahaba Shigeru_.

“Sorry, Kyou, it won’t happen again,” he chuckled. The innocent smile he gave him was enough to stop Kyoutani’s heart. At just twenty three years old, Kyoutani would surely die of a Yahaba-induced heart attack. “Are you about ready to go?”

Kyoutani nodded, swiftly removing his apron and cleaning up the little mess he had made.

“Yachi!” he called into the back. “I’m heading out for the day.”

A few moments later, a little blonde head popped into the doorway.

“Sorry! I’m ready! Just grabbing some things!”

He shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, there’s nothing happening. Just take your time and listen for the bell.” He took in the sight of her, standing barely as high as his collarbone in her little yellow apron. She was so small, so fragile, so... _jittery_. He sighed “I worry about you. Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

Yachi seemed taken back for a moment, but she quickly recovered, clenching her tiny fists at her sides.

“Y-yes, Kyoutani-san! Thank you for your faith in me to watch your shop by myself! I... _I know I can handle it!!_ ”

Her voiced seem to raise in pitch by the end, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to shake, but she seemed determined nonetheless. In all honesty, Kyoutani had been unsure about letting his smallest and most anxiety-ridden employee run the shop alone, but Kiyoko had convinced him (he’d learned to trust her over the years).

He sighed.

“Call me if you need _anything_. There’s some leftover pasta in the fridge upstairs, help yourself and mind the dogs if you go up. I’ll...just text me when you get home, okay?”

“Yes, Kyoutani-san!”

“Don’t call me that…” he grumbled.

“Yes, Kyoutani-kun!”

Yahaba laughed from his spot behind them.

“Let’s go, otherwise you’ll never leave this poor girl alone.”

With a sigh, Kyoutani followed Yahaba out of the shop, waving at Yachi over his shoulder as he went. As he began to look behind them, Yahaba playfully punched his shoulder with a chuckle.

“ _God,_ Kyou. It’s so cute how worried you are about her. Who would have known that a guy with an ugly mug like yours had such a soft heart?”

Kyoutani scoffed, looking anywhere but at Yahaba as he felt his cheeks heat up despite the biting cold. He hugged his arms to his body, scrunching his shoulders.

“I love it when you pout,” Yahaba teased, barely making it out of the way of Kyoutani’s outstretched hands as he grabbed for him. He ran ahead laughing. “Come on, slow poke, dinner’s probably ready and unlike you, _I_ actually _worked_ today!”

Kyoutani chased him all the way there (five blocks total), letting Yahaba beat him just to hear him giggle about it. He couldn’t recall when they had become so close that Yahaba was comfortable reverting to childish behavior, but he wouldn’t dream of complaining. The two batted at one another as Yahaba fumbled to get the key into the door, but they were soon inside his apartment, kicking off their shoes and hanging up their winter gear. Kyoutani relished in the warmth.

“You really need to start wearing a scarf, you know.” Yahaba smacked Kyoutani’s arm when he caught him rolling his eyes. “I’m serious! You got really sick by the end of last winter, and seeing you now, I’m convinced it was completely your own damn fault.”

The florist clicked his tongue.

“Yes, _dear._ ”

Yahaba narrowed his eyes at him before a grin split across his face, still flushed pink from the cold. He hurried away to the kitchen without a word, Kyoutani following him closely.

“ _What’s with that look_? _Shigeru?!_ ”

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it,” he told him as he grabbed for their bowls. He set down his bowl, a blue cat bowl, before handing Kyoutani his matching red dog bowl.

 _“We are people. We can’t eat out of pet bowls,”_ Yahaba had said that day at the store.

Kyoutani had scrunched his nose with a huff. “ _Says who?_ ”

They had been using them ever since.

Kyoutani snatched his bowl away, crossing the little space in the kitchen to turn off the crock pot and remove the lid. He messily helped himself to stew before flipping Yahaba off and making himself at home in the living room. As he got comfortable on the couch, Fumio, Yahaba’s ragdoll ( _“What breed is your cat?” “Uh...she’s the cat breed of cat.”_ was what Yahaba told him before his first trip to see his apartment), bounded up to him, cuddling close to his side. He absentmindedly scratched her head as he attempted to balance his bowl on one knee, so that he could eat and pet at the same time.

“ _Kyoutani Kentarou_ ,” Yahaba scolded from the doorway. Plopping down on the couch next to them, he pulled the coffee table closer, placing coasters out for them both. “Use the fucking table, you animal.”

Kyoutani sneered at him.

“You’re just jealous cause your own cat likes me better.”

“That’s not true, I like you way better than she does!” Yahaba replied in his most sickeningly sweet voice, a very Oikawa-like smile on his face. Kyoutani rolled his eyes, but grinned nonetheless.

They turned the television on, found an appropriately bad movie on a random channel none of them had ever heard of (Yahaba had one of those packages with _all of the channels_ ) and they laughed and joked as they ate. The movie was quickly forgotten as Yahaba told Kyoutani about his day at the high school, about the kids in his class, the ones he loved and the ones he absolutely couldn’t stand. He told him about the drama of the day (apparently one girl caught her boyfriend cheating and had shoved his backpack into a toilet) and about the science teacher down the hallway who kept flirting with him.

“She just doesn’t seem to care that I’m _in a relationship_ and it’s really pissing me off,” he complained. “ _Everyone_ knows it! I know she knows! She’s seen the pictures on my desk, but she just _doesn’t care_!”

Kyoutani nodded at him as he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Fuckin sucks.”

A long, drawn out sigh left Yahaba’s mouth.

“I’ll live. I suppose I should probably take it as a compliment...I mean, I am a fossil, after all.”

Kyoutani scoffed, looking up from Fumio to glare daggers at his companion.

“ _You’re twenty fucking six, Yahaba_.”

Yahaba laughed, but for the first time that day it sounded hollow. He turned to face Kyoutani a little better, resting his head against the back of the couch. He watched Kyoutani for a long moment before he spoke again, voice soft, barely above a whisper.

“Kyou. I’m...I’m really glad I have you.”

Kyoutani stopped petting Fumio. He took in the man before him carefully. Yahaba looked tired, but lately, he always seemed to look that way. Hesitantly, he reached for his hand, grabbing it gently; Yahaba’s hands were always so soft.

“Talk to me.”

Yahaba’s small smile seemed to strain as he closed his eyes, his composure falling as his emotions finally took over.

“It’s...it’s really nothing new…”

“That’s fine.”

“I hate bothering you with all this…”

“ _Bullshit_. Fucking _talk_ to me. I’ll always listen.”

Yahaba let out a shaky chuckle, squeezing Kyoutani’s calloused fingers. He squeezed back, still gentle, and waited patiently.

“Mother loved the flowers this year.”

“ _Shigeru_.”

He opened his eyes, but avoided Kyoutani’s gaze.

“I just...she...Masae strongly implied...that she doesn’t want you coming around anymore…”

Kyoutani’s eyes widened; he knew Masae didn’t care for him in the least, but he didn’t expect she’d ever tell Yahaba they couldn’t hang out together. Though, the memory of her reaction when she had first learned he was gay lingered fresh in his mind; she had literally done a double take, her expression that of extreme disgust. He now wondered how often she played that scene back in her own head, and what she had been thinking about his relationship with Yahaba ever since.

Kyoutani’s jaw tightened, and his grip on Yahaba’s hand slacked. Yahaba finally looked up, seemingly beginning to panic.

“I told her that was ridiculous, though!” he rushed to say. “I mean, I don’t police her friends, why should she police mine? She got really pissed off, though. Stormed out.”

He tried to laugh, a fake, defeated laugh that Kyoutani wanted to kiss away.

“I’m not going to push you away just because she’s jealous. If she doesn’t trust me, that’s her problem.”

Kyoutani let his jaw relax as he searched Yahaba’s eyes; he was so tired, so defeated lately, but right now he looked at Kyoutani like he was the sun in his sky, and Kyoutani believed him. He gave his hand another squeeze.

“I’m sorry you two fought over me.”

There went another hollow laugh, barely there.

“It...wasn’t the first time, you know...probably won’t be the last. Please don’t apologize, you’ve...never done any wrong by either of us.” Kyoutani huffed, but Yahaba cut him off with a _tsk_. “I’m _serious_.”

Kyoutani pursed his lips before grinning at him. After a moment, Yahaba followed and the two sat there smiling at one another. Yahaba took a deep breath and slumped forward as he exhaled, resting his head on Kyoutani’s shoulder, careful not to disturb Fumio. Kyoutani rubbed his back soothingly.

“Do you...need me to disappear for a while?”

Yahaba shook his head almost instantly, grip on Kyoutani tightening.

“Then...do you need to get away for a bit..?”

Yahaba took so long to answer that he wasn’t sure he’d answer at all.

“...I really don’t think it would help at this point? I just need some time to think first...”

As much as Kyoutani wanted to agree, he wasn’t sure how much of that were his feelings for Yahaba influencing his reasoning skills. So, he patted his back in place of responding. He was always a more tactile person, anyway.

“Kyou, I’m so tired.”

“I know.”

“I just want things to be how they were.”

“I know.”

“Or...do I…? I don’t know anymore...things will never be how they were in the beginning, but in the end will that really be such a bad thing?”

Kyoutani could feel something strange in his chest, and hoped Yahaba didn’t notice his increasing heart rate. He liked this train of thought way more than what Yahaba had been saying about this situation for the past two months; it was the first time he had felt hopeful.

“Three years is so long, thinking about how I’ve been feeling lately, I kind of wonder if I’m still putting up with her _because_ it’s been so long?”

Kyoutani took in a deep breath.

“Change is hard…”

“Yet everything has changed. But then again, maybe things haven’t been that good for a while now? It really is hard to place.” Yahaba leaned back, looking between Kyoutani’s eyes. “I’ve been thinking about things, how they’ve been since we met. I don’t...I don’t think she’s treated you well this entire time, and I kind of really fucking hate that? I hate that I’ve let her be so malicious to you. What’s wrong with me?”

Kyoutani punched his shoulder gently before Yahaba could spiral into self-deprecation. He had seen far too much of that.

“I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.”

“ _Kentarou_ \--”

“ _Shigeru_.”

Staring at one another in silence seemed to be the theme of the night. There was nothing about this situation that Kyoutani liked, and it was made even worse by the fact that Yahaba had been worrying about _him_. He really could handle himself; not being able to help Yahaba is what tore him apart.

“I don’t give a shit what she thinks. I don’t give a shit how she treats me.” It wasn’t completely a lie.

“But _I_ care.”

This time, Kyoutani was the one to _tsk_ at him. Before they could discuss the matter further, they were interrupted by the sound of someone fumbling with the front door. Kyoutani released Yahaba’s hand, his stomach dropping as the door swung open, Masae herself stepping into the apartment. She froze for a minute after spotting them on the couch, eyes moving between the two. Yahaba hurried to his feet.

“I thought you wouldn’t be home until later…”

Her eyes lingered on Kyoutani before she finally acknowledged Yahaba.

“Well, I left early so that we could, I don’t know, _spend time together_ ,” she practically hissed. “But I see you have plans that don’t involve me. _Again_.”

If Kyoutani could roll his eyes hard enough for them to pop out, they would be rolling across the floor right now. If Masae were heavier, taller, and more physically capable, he would have gotten into a physical altercation with her _long_ ago. But, as it was, she was barely taller than five feet, one hundred pounds soaking wet, and could probably be taken down by a chihuahua on a good day.

He stood.

“I was just _leaving_.”

Yahaba looked between them, obviously uncomfortable, but Kyoutani shook his head at him before he could argue. Masae huffed, scowling at Kyoutani as though he had no right to speak to her. She probably thought he didn’t.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt your make-out session.” She walked off into the kitchen before either of them could say anything.

Kyoutani flipped her off from behind as he made his way to the front door, slipping on his shoes and jacket, doing his best not to show how furious he was. Before he could open the door, Yahaba grabbed his elbow.

“Before you leave.” Kyoutani turned his head just in time to watch Yahaba wind his scarf around his neck, the same one he had been wearing when he picked Kyoutani up. “You need to stay warm, idiot. I thought gay guys were supposed to take better care of themselves.”

Kyoutani couldn’t help but grin at him.

“You wanna fight, punk?”

Yahaba grinned back.

“I’d kick your ass, but I don’t want to be charged with a hate crime. Text me when you get home?”

Kyoutani nodded back at him before leaving the apartment. The cold of winter felt harsher than he remembered as he quickly went on his way, eager to avoid overhearing the yelling that was soon to come. He pulled the scarf tighter around his neck and face and caught the smell of what was uniquely _Yahaba_. He should have been ecstatic to leave with an article of his clothing, but all he felt was the anger and hostility that had been building up for Masae over the past year.

Kyoutani was in love with almost every part of Yahaba Shigeru, true, but _fuck_ did he hate his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been like 7 years since I last wrote fan fic. I originally started this universe as a Yaku/Lev photographer/model AU but I developed all of my other favorite characters into the universe as well, including Kyoutani and Yahaba. Recently I've ran out of KyouHaba fics and was moping about it, but then remembered that if I want something I can make it my own damn self (Shia Labeouf, 1776).
> 
> So anyway, I don't consider myself a writer so if there is anything off about my writing, then shrug bro, I write how I think and there's no cure for my impatience. But I love KyouHaba and there's just never enough of it for me so I figure maybe other people would also appreciate additional contributions. Also, please note that I played around with everyone's ages so that all the characters weren't all born in the same 3 years. Kyou is 3 years younger than Yahaba.
> 
> Anyway, let's have some fun playing with Kyoutani's heart. *wink wonk*


	2. Thanks, Watari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You two are terrible together. Put me out of my misery before it’s too late and you guys get married and have snarky little sass babies.”
> 
> “We’ll name our firstborn after you,” Yahaba promised as he stole a bite from Kyoutani’s burger right out of his hands.
> 
> Yahaba’s slender fingers felt like fire around his wrists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the original female character(s) tag is there for a reason. There aren't enough ladies in HQ so I've added a couple of my own who don't exist just to play the antagonist. I know a lot of people hate OCs but I don't so I hope you like my girls. I always HC'd that Kyou would be closer to women.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter begins the introduction of physical abuse.

“Kyoutani!”

He turned to see Yahaba hurrying up to him through the crowd, hand raised as though there were any way for Kyoutani to miss him (he towered over just about everyone in the vicinity). He simply nods, allowing Yahaba to close the distance.

“Sorry we’re late. Were you waiting long?”

Kyoutani took in Yahaba’s bright smile, radiant despite the murky weather.

“No.”

“ _Shigeru_ , don’t run off!” He leaned around Yahaba just in time to see a fairly attractive (he would guess) woman run up and grab Yahaba’s hand. While she whined, Kyoutani took a moment to look her over; she barely cleared Yahaba’s shoulders with heels on, her hair was long and wavy, inky black with a healthy shine, her skin smooth and pale without any noticeable blemishes or marks, makeup modest and flawless on her round face. He noticed her thin frame, how her slender hand was dwarfed against Yahaba’s.

If seeing his crush’s preference in women being so drastically different from himself made Kyoutani’s stomach drop, he’d never admit it.

_I've seen better._

“You _know_ I hate running around in this god awful weather, Shigeru. Are you _trying_ to embarrass me in front of your friend?”

The pout she gave him seemed more of a malicious glare, and Kyoutani didn’t miss the genuine displeasure in her tone. Not even a minute around this woman and he already knew that they would _not_ be getting along.

Yahaba chuckled in that dorky way that Kyoutani loved to hear, scuffing his shoe nervously against the damp pavement.

“I’m sorry, guess I’m just in a good mood today…” He glanced back at the florist, grinning, completely unfazed by her poor attitude. “Masae, this is my friend Kyoutani Kentarou. And Kyoutani, this is my girlfriend Hironaka Masae.”

Kyoutani was probably the last person to care about manners, but something about this woman made him want to show her up. He held out his hand to properly greet her, taming his natural scowl as best he could (which wasn't much all at, in all honesty).

“Nice to meet you, Hironaka-san.”

She glanced between his face and his outstretched hand, lips curved downward as she made no attempt to hide her judgmental stare. He noticed the way her eyes lingered on his hair, his ear piercings, the flower tattoo on the side of his neck, the tattoo sticking out through the left sleeve of his worn jacket. It felt like forever before she grabbed his hand, hesitantly as though he were something dangerous. The fake smile she gave him felt like a slap to the face.

“I’m sure it is.”

The rest of that day went on in a similar way; Yahaba seemed willfully ignorant of the tension between his companions, but Kyoutani caught his worried gaze often enough to know he wasn’t unaware of the tension. Kyoutani did what he could to behave himself for Yahaba's sake. After all, he wasn't the kind of person to treat someone poorly because they were dating his crush. Being Yahaba's friend was important to him, and this woman was obviously important to Yahaba, if their two years of dating had been anything to go by.

Still,  the small things about their relationship didn't escape his notice. Masae was obviously controlling, though Kyoutani wouldn't understand for some time exactly to what extent. She was unfairly critical of everything Yahaba enjoyed, including his friends, and Kyoutani would later understand that he unwillingly became the source of much drama between the two simply due to his appearance. (“ _What would your parents think of a thug like him, Shigeru?! He bleaches his hair and he's covered in tattoos!_ ” “ _Shigeru, are you sure he’s not trying to sell our kidneys or something??_ ” “ _Shigeru, what is with that dog! Are you sure he doesn’t beat it? I thought it was going to attack me, I was so scared! Don’t you care?_ ”)

Yahaba must have known that Masae would despise Kyoutani, yet he introduced them away.

"You're too important to him not to meet his girlfriend,” Watari had told him a few weeks later, voice warm with a smile on his face. “I feel like I should probably be worried about my best friend status now that you're around.”

Kyoutani just huffed. It was met by laughter.

“I'm serious!  He really likes you.” Watari leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands as he watched Yahaba collecting their lunch from the other side of the food court. “If we're lucky, you'll scare off that harpy and you two can live happily ever after…”

“Excuse me?” Kyoutani couldn't help but be taken back. Watari simply side eyed him.

“I'm sorry, have you two not been shamelessly flirting since you met or have I been following around the wrong Yahaba Shigeru and Kyoutani Kentarou for the past four months? Come on, you were beet red last month when he got drunk at his own birthday party and gave you--and I quote--‘ _good luck kisses for my cute little Kentarou_ ’ before pretty much becoming a part of your side the rest of the night.”

Kyoutani hid his rapidly flushing face in his hands and grumbled.

“It's not…you know it's not like that…he didn't…not all night...He was drunk off his ass!”

Watari blew a raspberry at him.

“Oh, please. I found you two sleeping in the bathtub together the next morning.” Kyoutani opened his mouth to argue, but Watari didn't give him the opportunity. “I know you don't want to be a homewrecker. I respect that and I appreciate you being so cool to my best bro. But you're also not subtle. Neither of you are.”

After taking a moment to recompose himself, Kyoutani fixed Watari with his deadliest glare.

“ _Drop it_.”

Watari opened his mouth, but said nothing. He stared at Kyoutani with the smallest frown on his face before taking a deep breath.

“I'm sorry. It's none of my business.”

Watari hadn't been wrong that day, but the realization that Kyoutani’s feelings for Yahaba were obvious to others terrified him. At a certain point, it hadn’t even registered that he _was_ flirting, it just felt so natural to go back and forth with Yahaba’s smart mouth. But if Watari found it to be so blatant, who else had noticed? Did Yahaba realize what they were doing? What did he think? What did he think about Kyoutani? Did it mean anything?

“Oh no. What did Shinji say to you this time?”

Kyoutani snapped out of his internal struggle to Yahaba settling in next to him, distributing the food among them.

“You look like you’re trying to murder with your eyes. You could just be constipated, but I think that’s just your face.”

Yahaba grinned smugly at him, brown eyes warm. Kyoutani glanced at Watari for just a moment before making a grab at Yahaba’s head, tousling his hair while he whined in protest.

“ _Shinji_ was just telling me aaaaaall about his little crush on Maruyama.”

It was Watari’s turn to flush beet red, almost dropping his burger as he sputtered at Kyoutani.

“W-what?? I don’t...I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kyoutani.”

Kyoutani wore his best shit eating grin as he rested his chin on his upturned palm, eyes narrow as he got his little slice of revenge.

“You were practically begging for her number--”

“I thought she might be able to introduce me to new music!”

“--and dropping hints that you wanted me to invite her out--”

“Music! She’s a musician! I find it fascinating!”

“--and also, you asking if she’s single wasn’t smooth, buddy. Just come out and fucking ask.”

“No! I just...I don’t want to make things awkward if she has, like, a protective boyfriend or something.”

Yahaba snickered behind his fries. He stole a drink from Kyoutani’s cup, but he didn’t mind.

“So,” the grin Yahaba gave Watari could put Kyoutani’s to shame. “Is she single?”

Watari dropped his head to the table, groaning dramatically as it hit with a _thud!_ Kyoutani couldn’t contain his snort as he joined Yahaba in his half-concealed laughter.

“You two are terrible together. Put me out of my misery before it’s too late and you guys get married and have snarky little sass babies.”

“We’ll name our firstborn after you,” Yahaba promised as he stole a bite from Kyoutani’s burger right out of his hands.

Yahaba’s slender fingers felt like fire around his wrists.

 

* * *

 

It’s been a week since Kyoutani left Yahaba’s apartment with his scarf lovingly wrapped around his neck; he could feel the tiniest cold forming in the back of his throat, but he’d sooner die than admit to Yahaba that he was right. He hadn’t seen the object of his affection the entire time, and the teacher never asked for the scarf, so Kyoutani kept ahold of it shamelessly.

Of course it’s the first thing that Maruyama sees upon entering his apartment that afternoon. He knows she doesn’t give enough shits to pay attention to what clothes he may or may not own, yet she honed right on in to the scarf, judgmental blue eyes narrowed at it as she hung her coat up beside the length of teal cloth. Both dogs whine at her feet, his American pitbull tall enough to nip at her fingers while the Australian shepherd paces around her impatiently; she’s not quite heartless enough to ignore their pleas for attention. As she kneels down to greet Dai and Colonel, she fixes her judgmental eyes gaze onto Kyoutani, who is giving her his own critical glare from the comfort of the worn old couch.

“How’s the weather?” he asks dryly, eager to break the silence. A silent Maru is a dangerous one.

She makes a noise of amusement, the corner of her mouth upturning just enough to be apparent.

“Cold as shit with no sign of snow to at least enhance the bleary scenery. Have you been cold, Kyou, or have you been finding ways to stay warm?”

He grimaces at her, eyes fierce despite knowing he’s never been able to scare her with a look. He can still try.

“How about those taxes? You robots _love_ numbers.”

Every couple of months since Kyoutani first took over the flower shop he’s called Maruyama Hikaru to assist with his taxes, finances, and other business related issues. A woman of hard facts and meticulous by nature, he’s not sure he could have handled the business in the beginning without her. Even with the training from Nomura-san, the previous owner, and the help of the business degree he obtained for this very purpose, being twenty two and suddenly inheriting an entire small business was a bit overwhelming for a young man still finishing up school.

Maru sits on the rug, coffee table long pushed to the far wall to make space, her legs spread about as she eyes the papers and charts piled around her. Kyoutani doesn’t necessarily _have_ to be here for this, but the thought of leaving her alone in his apartment always makes him uneasy. One of his few remaining childhood friends, he knows all too well the trouble she can get up to unsupervised for any amount of time, no matter how small. He learned his lesson long ago.

He’s also never forgiven her for punching him in the gut the first time they met.

“Where’s Kimi today?” Kyoutani falls into a laying position on the couch as he stretches out, allowing his shepherd to jump onto his chest. Maru was busy fending off Dai from her position in the middle of the floor; the pitbull had been attempting to lay on the piles of papers.

“Oh, you know,” she began with a hollow grin. “She threw a little piss fit about the weather before locking herself in her room. Wonderful roommate and best friend as I am, I did try to coax her out, but after she called me a _‘dick-guzzling ass fucker’_ I figured it might be best to leave her be.” She flipped him off in response to his snorts of ill-contained laughter. “Though, I did make one final attempt. ‘ _Don’t you want to see Kenni?’_ I asked, to which she replied ' _He’s the biggest dick-guzzling ass fucker there is_ ’ and slammed the door for dramatic effect. What about you, Kyou. Getting into trouble with Mr. Perfect Hair today?”

He shrugged despite the fact that she couldn’t see him, scratching at Colonel’s neck.

“Haven’t seen him all week. What d’you care?”

“I don’t,” she replied honestly, cupping Dai’s wide face gently in her dainty hands, running her thumb over the scarred skin where his left eye used to be. “Everyone seems very invested in your love life lately. Did you know that?”

He knew that she knew that he did, in fact, know that. She didn’t need an answer, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I’m not going to get sappy or anything and have a heart to heart with you about my true feelings and the well-hidden sentimentality that our friendship holds. But, sometimes I get this feeling in my chest. It conflicts with my strict and heartless programming. I believe I may be close to defecting thanks to this human emotion you call friendship.”

He almost replies with _friendship isn’t an emotion_ but gets the feeling he’s being set up for something he doesn’t understand. He also notes that this is the most compassion she’s ever expressed towards him in the past fifteen years. Honestly, he’s not ready for their relationship to reach the next level just yet. He shifts uncomfortably.

“Sorry for causing you feelings.”

She hums in agreement, but goes back to her work without another word. He just assumes she began making herself equally uncomfortable with the lack of malice between them.

Other than a trip for lunch, Kyoutani stays on the couch reading for the next three hours as Maru slowly reviews the information for the past month and double checks the work they’ve already completed for the 2016 tax year. He’s developing a theory that she has a secret fetish for managing his business in the shadows, but if she’s willing to assist with the heavy mental lifting for minimal compensation, who is he to kink shame a nerd?

Kyoutani startles when there’s a gentle knock on the door. Both dogs jump to their feet, Dai growling viciously as Colonel barks from the couch.

“Sorry!” Yahaba calls as he cracks the door, both dogs quieting immediately. When he’s assumed he’s not walking in on anything scandalous, he pushes past the excited dogs now crowding him at the entrance. He kicks off his shoes, kneeling down to pet the crying duo. “Hello, cuties, I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you.”

Yahaba continues to speak softly to Dai and Colonel, and really Kyoutani didn’t need to be reminded that he loved everything about this dork, yet there he was, cheeks pink from the cold attempting to cradle a battle scarred pitbull as the dog licks at his neck and face. It was a good five minutes before he acknowledged the other people in the room.

“Hey, Maruyama-chan. You look well.” He smiled politely at her as she glanced up at him with a slightly raised hand, acknowledging that she heard him, before turning back to her work. He learned a while ago not to take offense to her indifference. His eyes lingered on her, then finally he turned his attention to Kyoutani. “Sorry, Kyou, the week got away from me.”

There was something more hidden in his apologetic expression. Kyoutani shook his head, raising from the couch. He made his way back to his room, quickly changing into jeans and throwing on a long sleeve shirt before returning to the other room.

“Let’s walk, Yahaba.”

Kyoutani had been looking forward to walking the dogs with Yahaba again. Not even the freezing weather could ruin the moment, even as the sun was engulfed in a thick layer of gray clouds and a deep chill quickly overtook his exposed skin. He readjusted the teal scarf around his neck and his grip on Dai’s leash; the dog was cautiously following next to him, bobbing along on his three remaining legs with his muzzled head held high, one good ear at attention and bright grey eye watching for cats and danger (in that order). Beside them, Yahaba was being jerked forward slightly with every step Colonel took, his fluffy tail bobbing along excitedly, but he didn’t let the dog get the better of him.

Yahaba was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Kyoutani could practically hear his anxious thoughts floating around them.

“Kyou, really, sorry I haven’t been very social this week. I blinked and it was gone…”

Kyoutani grunted, elbowing him in the side a bit rougher than he probably should have, but Yahaba didn’t mention it.

“Shut up, idiot. I don’t care about shit like that.”

Yahaba huffed in irritation but they continued on their way, the shepherd leading them down the sidewalk eagerly. Once Yahaba was done pouting the two caught up on each other’s weeks, Kyoutani even managing to get a laugh from his companion before they returned to the shop. They greeted Kiyoko on their way up to the apartment and were soon back to the warmth of Kyoutani’s home, recently vacated; Maru had been kind enough to return the papers to the spare room and push the furniture back in place, her report left on the half wall dividing the kitchen and living room. Kyoutani was fetching them snacks while Yahaba got comfortable on the couch, both tired dogs allowing Yahaba to dry their damp paws reluctantly before being allowed to join him.

Kyoutani returned to the room with two steaming mugs and a platter of cookies that Yachi had made for him to find Yahaba laying sprawled across the couch, Dai curled up between his legs, head resting on his crotch, and Colonel snug against Yahaba’s chest, drowning him in his long gray and white fur. Kyoutani gave him a blank stare.

“I’m stealing your babies, Kyou, and you can’t stop me.”

Kyoutani shook his head in response. He set the mugs down on the old coffee table with no concern for ruining the worn finish and handed Yahaba the plate despite his protests. Kyoutani carefully sat down between his legs, careful not to startle Dai or crush Yahaba’s limbs, one leg behind the small of his back and the other under his thighs.

“Kyouuuuuu,” he whined. “If your fat ass doesn’t crush me, I’ll die from overheating.”

Kyoutani made a grab for Yahaba’s foot. He did his best not to struggle, but he jerked violently enough to cause Dai to growl, his ears flattening against his gray head.

“Nonononononononononoooooooooo,” he pleaded helplessly.

He was shown mercy when Dai began nipping at Kyoutani’s elbows. The pitbull lept from the couch, retreating to the bedroom to get away from them.

“Awww.” Yahaba finally sat up, holding Colonel tight with the hand not supporting cookies to keep him from fleeing as he forced his legs out from underneath Kyoutani. The Aussie settled in his lap. “You scared him, you dick.”

“ _Pft_ . He’s scared of _everything_.”

Kyoutani shifted himself to face Yahaba better. He took the cookies but stopped once he finally got a good look at his companion sans winter coat and scarf. He placed the tray on the table without taking his eyes off of Yahaba’s neck. He could see the corner of a large bandage  peeking out from under his collar, Yahaba grabbing his wrist before he even realized he had reached out. His eyes flicked upwards. Yahaba’s lips were pursed, and once again Kyoutani was looking at a man exhausted beyond his own limits.

Yahaba exhaled, releasing his grip on Kyoutani’s hand. He seemed to have come to some decision Kyoutani hadn’t been a part of and undid the first few buttons of his shirt. He winced when he peeled the bandage off, refusing to look at Kyoutani as the florist reached forward to push the fabric to the side. His eyes slid across the smooth skin of Yahaba’s neck and collar. He couldn’t be bothered by the fresh hickies dotting the skin because another set of bruises had stolen the breath from his lungs; several elongated bruises were visible and Kyoutani could practically see the dainty hands wrapped around Yahaba’s neck.

Kyoutani didn’t speak, even though Yahaba was waiting for him to.

He dropped his hand and stared intently at Yahaba’s face. The teacher continued to stare off to the side.

“So…” he began. Kyoutani didn’t interrupt as Yahaba gathered his words (and probably courage). “It’s been, uh, a few weeks since Masae and I were intimate…”

His eyebrows knit together and Kyoutani could see the shame taking over his expression. He realized how tense he himself had become and relaxed as best he could, resting his head on the back of the couch. He put a hand reassuringly on Yahaba’s knee as his companion drew his legs onto the couch.

“We tried last night. She, uh, wanted to…”

He swallowed.

“Spice it up?” Kyoutani offered.

Yahaba gave a nod.

“I...I didn’t really...I couldn't really…”

“You didn’t like it but you couldn’t tell her to stop.”

Another nod. Kyoutani could feel his face tensing in a scowl. Really, he had no right to be angry, no matter how much he may have hated Masae. She hurt him, but didn’t know because he didn’t tell her.

“Shigeru.”

Yahaba finally chanced a glance at Kyoutani but seemed to shrink under his intense glare.

“You can’t keep doing this shit.” The hand on Yahaba’s knee tightened. “You need to talk to your fucking girlfriend for once.”

“And say _what_? Fuck, I must seem so pathetic. All tore up over a little breathplay--”

“ _No_ ,” Kyoutani practically snarled. “None of this fragile masculinity bullshit, Shigeru. It doesn’t fucking matter how little she is or how insignificant the shit the two of you do feels, if she _hurts_ you, you need to _fucking tell her_. And if she disregards your concerns then you need to think long and fucking hard about what you mean to her and what your relationship means to _you_.”

Yahaba doesn’t respond, but Kyoutani can tell that he’s chewing the inside of his lip.

But he’s not finished. Over the past year he’s met the most amazing person, fallen in love with him, and watched day after day as he tore himself apart over someone else. He’s seen Yahaba crying and screaming and punching and he’s held him close to calm his breathing, all the while keeping his own jealousy in check, just to watch him make the same mistakes over and over.

“You keep on like this and you’re probably gonna end up marrying her. Then what? You think it’s gonna be better just ‘cause you’re legally bound together? Think that will make her give a shit and listen?”

It’s Yahaba’s turn to glare.

“What does it matter, huh?! It’s my choice in the end!”

Colonel wines from his lap, jumping down to hide with Dai in the other room. Kyoutani grabs Yahaba’s collar forcefully. It’s been awhile since they last fought.

“ _What does it matter?!_ It matters because I fucking _care_ about you, Shigeru! Everyone cares about you! I’ve been watching you tear yourself up since we first met and you’re getting worse and worse! Why the fuck are you doing this?! Because you love her? Or because you’re fucking terrified of being alone again?!”

Yahaba gapes at him.

“I’m not...! I’m not _terrified--_ ”

Kyoutani throws his hands in the air, his patience wearing thin.

“What the fuck? Stop bullshitting me, for fucking once! It’s okay to be scared, who wouldn’t be?!” He runs his calloused hands through his short, bleached hair. “ _Change. Is. Hard!_ But _something_ needs to fucking change. You’re scared to talk to her and you’re scared to leave her, but you’ll have to do at least one of those things, the sooner the better.”

“I don’t know what to do! I-I’m not strong like you are.”

This time, it’s Kyoutani’s turn to gape at him.

“The fuck are you talking about, Shigeru?”

Yahaba is clenching and unclenching his fists around the fabric of his pants, hands twitching like he wants to reach out for Kyoutani, but he doesn’t.

“I know so many amazing people. People who work so hard and do s-so much, have gone through so much but still came out on top. You’re so young but you’ve done so well and survived all kinds of shit and what have I done? What have I gone through? I’ve done nothing and I am nothing. I’m just a weakling and a coward.”

Kyoutani can feel his face heating up from the anger that’s been accumulating for weeks. He’s not even mad at Yahaba, just at life in general, but hearing the way Yahaba thinks of himself has always been a trigger for his rage.

“ _That’s such shit, such fucking shit_.”

Yahaba is doing a terrible job of hiding his trembling as he holds back the tears that are always fighting to break free lately. Kyoutani hates seeing him cry, he’s too beautiful to be this hurt and upset, but there’s a fire under his skin and there’s only so long he can go without letting the flame run it’s course.

Yahaba shoots up from the couch, turning his head as though that will keep Kyoutani from seeing him rub the wetness from his eyes.

“I didn’t want to start a fight, Ken.” He’s impressed with how even Yahaba is keeping his voice. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

Kyoutani stands as well, but doesn’t make a move to stop him. Yahaba looks into his eyes one last time but can’t seem to hold his intense gaze. He collects his belongings and soon Kyoutani is standing alone in his living room wishing he were also a stronger person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments so far! I was surprised that several people said something, I really do appreciate the feedback. Since I haven't written in so long I was kind of internally screaming after I posted the first chapter lol it also doesn't help that my beta reader isn't really a beta reader he's just my very straight friend who wants to make me feel better and says "this is p gay but sounds good, so keep going."
> 
> I really hope you like Maruyama. She's my favorite of the three girlfriends I've made for Kyou u.u


	3. Thanks again, Oikawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t help it, Shigeru, you just made my whole week. I will never stop being tickled shitless over this. Oh my god, you’ve given me so much to work with.”
> 
> “Whatever, but please keep this to yourself.”
> 
> Oikawa giggles shamelessly. “Oh, no, Shige-chan, you know I have to tell Iwa-chan about this.”
> 
> Yahaba’s head hits the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating has been raised. If you wanna skip smut, go straight to "Don’t forget the dragon on the right arm." But you're gonna miss the mostly vague descriptions of Kyou's tattoos.

Yahaba’s eyes are closed, chest heaving at the sensation of rough hands roaming his exposed flesh. He’s not sure where he’s at or how he got here, but in the heat of the moment he couldn’t care less as light kisses are littered across his body, a stark contrast to the forcefulness of the hands that are now gripping his hips as though he’ll somehow vanish without the anchor. The lips roam until they finally find his neck, head dipping to the side to allow for better access.

_Biting._

The moan that leaves his throat should feel shameful, he hasn’t made a sound like that in a long time, but he’s well beyond shame at this point.

His collarbone hasn’t received this much attention in years and he vaguely worries about how he’s going to hide all the marks left on him between his shoulder and neck.

_Can’t worry about that now._

And he doesn’t. How could he with the thick thigh that’s suddenly rubbing him between his legs? His hips jerk forward without his permission, his hands finally finding the form in front of him. Broad shoulders, muscles thick from years of faithful workouts.

_Fuuuuuuck yesssssss._

He allows his own hands to roam, feeling along every well kept muscle, toned to perfection, down the pectorals, along the abs, stopping at the v of his hips, feeling the dip between the muscles.

He practically whimpers.

_Perfect, so fucking perfect._

He almost forgets that there’s more to explore. He lets his right hand continue its voyage, slowly down the stomach and over the generous bulge waiting between the muscled thighs. Any air left in his lungs escapes in one needy groan.

He’s on his knees. His eyes are open, taking in the form in front of him, tattoos littering the tanned skin, flowers of all types falling along their canvas in a shower of petals.

_Yahaba has always been in love with flowers, this is like heaven. When did he die?_

His lips are tracing the sharp line of hips and he can feel his own dick twitch as he licks the flesh, but the taste doesn’t register. In the moment he doesn’t think about it. His mouth keeps going lower and lower until until there’s cloth brushing his lips between him and his target.

Unbuttoned.

Unzipped.

Out of the way.

He takes the shaft in his hand, gives it a gentle squeeze. The details are fuzzy, but he doesn’t need to see clearly to know what he wants to do with the thick member in front of him.

_It’s been a long time since he’s handled another one of these. Why hasn’t he done this sooner, again?_

He strokes it a few times and far off he feels pleasure through his own dick and he knows he’s moaning, but the sound doesn’t quite reach his ears. Suddenly, there’s a hand grabbing his hair in encouragement and he doesn’t really need to be coaxed further. He kisses up the side of the shaft from the base, counting kisses like measurements, but by the time his lips reach the tip he’s forgotten the number. He runs his tongue along the edges of the head, all the way around and then along the slit. In that far off place the pleasure he feels is slowly building in himself as he continues further.

His lips encase the head and he imagines it to be the perfect size, just right in his mouth.

_And what of the rest?_

He’s going to find the fuck out. Slowly he takes the dick in his mouth, all the way down to the base until the tip is tickling the back of his throat. He remembers his nonexistent gag reflex, one of his many pleasant college discoveries.

He’s pretty sure that the moans of pleasure are all his own and as is the theme of the night, he can’t be bothered to care.

He hums, running his tongue along the bottom as he slowly pulls back.

_Why has it been so fucking long since he’s done this??_

He tries to memorize every curve and vein, but once his mouth is empty he’s forgotten the feeling already. He goes back down, hand wrapping back around the base, creating a good stopping point for his mouth as he gets to work at a steady rhythm. There’s a heat pooling in his stomach as he bobs, steadily picking up the pace. He pulls back slowly, sucking as he goes, and slides his hand down to cup the balls as he slowly sinks back in, all the way to the base again. He swallows.

Another moan, the feeling inside him is rapidly building. The hand in his hair tightens and his eyes flutter closed again.

_He could do this every fucking day, why isn’t he doing this every fucking day?!_

He goes back to his bobbing, faster and deeper, no hand to stop him, and he forgets to breathe, too eager to continue, to have more, have it _all._

The hand in his hair grips tighter, at least he imagines it does because there is no pain, no sensation at all, just a far off feeling that it would be gripping him harder at this very moment. It vaguely registers that the feeling in his stomach is his own climax approaching. He’s excited by it, doesn’t care that he doesn’t remember touching himself.

_Faster, tighter, harder._

A long, drawn out moan escapes him as he comes, the cock in his mouth simultaneously releasing its load into him. He doesn’t quite feel it, but he imagines it painting his insides, salty and sticky and absolutely disgusting and exactly what he’s been missing for so long.

_I want to consume and be consumed._

He pulls off, the cock in front of him dropping lazily. He runs his fingers over the branch of cherry blossoms along the left hip, but can’t quite recall the exact shade of pink. He wonders how much it hurt instead. His eyes wander upwards, taking in visually what he only felt earlier. Muscles tended to carefully, skin kissed beautifully by the sun, butterflies dancing across his torso where they meet the sleeves of his tattoos at the pecs, waves and flowers lining his arms.

_Don’t forget the dragon on the right arm._

How could he?

_They should put this man in a museum._

His eyes linger on the left side of the neck; a stem of pale bluebells. This piece is doleful, but at the moment he can’t remember why.

He’s distracted by a sharp jawline and follows along it down to the strong chin. The thin line of his lips, his beautiful nose…

Yahaba’s gaze finally meets piercing honey eyes and it’s as though everything has suddenly melted around him. The gaze is so strong, so _intense_ that Yahaba feels like if he looks away he might never be able to look back.

He’s staring down at Yahaba like an animal ready for the kill...

He’s staring at him...

He’s staring...

He’s...

_Kentarou._

Yahaba gasps, the cool air of his apartment chilling his sweat soaked skin in the darkness. His chest is heaving as he lays partially paralyzed, his brain taking it’s time in readjusting to the waking world.

It’s Friday morning, what time he’s not yet sure. Last Thursday he had a fight with Kyoutani and fled the apartment. He received one text reading “ _I’m sorry_ ” but has had no further communication with him since. He’s also not talked much to his own girlfriend since then, either. He glances over to make sure she’s there, laying stock still in the darkness, unaware of the mess he’s made of himself right next to her.

_Shit._

He only just realizes that his hand is still down his boxers and his face twists in disgust as he pulls it out covered in his own filth. He doesn’t remember what happened until he’s sat up in bed, legs slung over the edge. Once again he finds himself frozen.

_Kyoutani._

He had a dream about Kyoutani. It wouldn’t be the first time he had dreamt of a tanned man lined with Kyoutani’s tattoos, of a patch of bleach blond hair cropped short, muscles and rough hands and gentle kisses.

But he had never seen his face before in a dream like that.

A shiver ran through his body while he simultaneously felt an overwhelming heat building in his stomach, nauseous and disgusted with himself for making his friend an unwilling participant in his unconscious sexual fantasy.

He briefly wonders if Kyoutani has ever had a similar dream, but the thought is quickly pushed away. That doesn’t matter right now.

He finally glances at their digital clock. Five thirty. He leaves for work in two hours.

He’s unable to fall back asleep.

 

* * *

 

Yahaba strums his fingers against the paper cup in front of him, too hot to consume yet the burn pleasantly painful against his cold hand. His head is down, staring at the beverage with what must look like murderous intent to anyone watching. He couldn’t help it if he tried; it’s been a really rough day, the crowning turd jewel on his week of absolute shit. He has no one to blame but himself, and this only adds to the weight on his chest.

The faint memories of this morning’s dream come back to him in bits and pieces and he grimaces, ashamed of the blush he feels creeping up his cheeks. He doesn’t bother looking up when Oikawa slides into the seat across from him, his normally cheerful expression falling to one of worry at the sight of his junior.

Oikawa sips at the drink Yahaba purchased him, more sugar and syrup than actual coffee.

“So,” he begins, smiling again to lift the mood. “Shige-chan, what is it you were wanting to talk about?”

Yahaba finally looks up into the face of his long-time friend. Oikawa looks every bit as exhausted as Yahaba feels, but he’s expertly hidden it behind his natural charm. Oikawa has taken time out of his outrageously busy schedule to see him, despite his own relationship issues Yahaba knows are keeping him up at night.

_I’m just being a burden on others._

Oikawa places his hand over Yahaba’s on the table. When had he started scratching at the grain?

He lets out a sigh.

“Thank you for seeing me Tooru, I know you’ve been busy.”

Oikawa shakes his head, perfectly kept hair bouncing around his ears. The smile he gives him is gentle, inviting. “I’m never too busy for my favorite kouhai. Talk to me, Shigeru.”

Yahaba turns his hand palm up against Oikawa’s and gives it a small squeeze, encouraged when the gesture is returned.

“I had a fight with Kyou last week. It was...it was my fault…”

Oikawa leans forward, grabbing Yahaba’s other hand off of his drink.

“I’m sure whatever it was, he’s forgiven you.”

Yahaba shakes his head, casting his eyes downward where his hands are clasped comfortingly in Oikawa’s.

“No...I mean, I think he thinks it’s his fault? I’m not worried about being forgiven. Just.” Inhale, exhale. “We had a fight about Masae. About...um...well, in the end, he said a lot of things. A lot of things that I’ve kind of been thinking about, but also hadn’t thought about before? Things I didn’t... _want_ to think about…”

Oikawa hummed along encouragingly as he waited for Yahaba to continue, rubbing little circles into the backs of his hands with his thumbs.

“I know it’s not really a secret that Masae and I have had our issues these past few months. I just never realized how bad it had gotten until I started talking to Kyou about it. He seems to be the only person willing to yell some sense into me.” He glances up, catches the way Oikawa’s smile tightens, his throat tensing. “He told me that I’m afraid of change and of being alone. I didn’t want to think about it like that, but I think he’s right. He’s always fucking right…”

Oikawa shifts, crossing his legs as he tightens his grip on Yahaba.

“Okay, so that’s probably a whole lot for you to be taking in right now, isn’t it?”

Yahaba nods in response.

“Do you have any idea what you’d like to do, Shigeru?”

Yahaba takes a shaky breath.

“I actually talked to Masae. We got together during lunch and I, uh...voiced some recent concerns. The whole reason Kyou and I fought to begin with. She. She, uh…” He pulled back one of his hands to run it through his sandy hair, eyes looking anywhere but the man in front of him. “She apologized for hurting me, but kind of seemed unconcerned about as a whole? Like, she didn’t really believe I was hurt but didn’t want to keep talking about it? Maybe I’m just overthinking it all now…”

“No, Shigeru, _no_.” Oikawa shakes his head more forcefully, leaning in closer over the table. “You have got to stop beating yourself down. Even if you are overthinking things--which I don’t believe you are--if you’re still being hurt, then something has to change.”

Yahaba lets the words roll around in his head, adds them to the things that Kyoutani has recently said to him, and notices how similar they are. His friends care so much about him. He’s causing them so much unnecessary stress.

 _“It matters because I fucking_ care _about you, Shigeru!”_

“Tooru, can I tell you about something else? Something about Kyou?”

Oikawa’s brows knit together, and Yahaba almost thinks he’s going to protest the blatant change in subject. He almost sighs audibly when Oikawa purses his lips instead, nodding for Yahaba to continue.

“I don’t know how else to go about this, so I suppose I’ll get straight to it. Last night. I...I had a sex dream…”

One of Oikawa’s perfectly kept eyebrows arched curiously, and he gave a small nod for him to continue.

“It was about Kyoutani,” he forced out, cheeks growing hot in embarrassment.

Oikawa’s entire demeanor changed; his eyes brightened, his mouth opening in a wide, amused smile as he looked over his junior.

“Oooh! Shige-chan, do tell!”

“Why are you so excited about this?!” Yahaba groans. “I’ve been freaking out about it all day!”

“What? Why?”

“Why?? Because!” Yahaba stops to take a sharp breath, lowering his voice and leaning in. “ _I had a dream about sucking my best friend off, how is this amusing to you?!_ ”

Oikawa’s smile jumps from bright to radiant as he flaps a hand in Yahaba’s direction excitedly. He immediately regrets giving him any details.

“Shigeru, you’re so dirty! A sexual fantasy dream about Kyouken-chan and _you’re_ sucking _his_ dick? Naughty, so naughty!”

“ _Tooru!”_

“Shigeru! This is _amazing!_ ”

“Tooru, I’m serious! This has been stressing me out! I feel like I’ve violated him…”

Oikawa shuts his mouth, but an amused smirk never leaves his face as he rests his chin in his palm. His eyes are soft, but serious.

“Really, it’s not that big a deal. He never even has to know, and if he did, I don’t think he’d be upset with you.” Yahaba opens his mouth to speak, but Oikawa shushes him. “You’re attracted to him-- _don’t even try denying it_ \--so things like this are bound to happen. I’ve had these dreams before about men I wasn’t even attracted to. Talk about upsetting. You’ve done nothing wrong. Actually, I’m surprised it’s taken this long.”

Yahaba slides down in his seat, shame tainting his expression. Oikawa immediately perks up again, eyes wide, practically vibrating with excitement.

“ _Are you shitting me, Shigeru?!_ ”

Yahaba buries his face in his hands.

“So...I’ve maybe had dreams like this before...but had never actually seen his _face_ in one until this morning.”

He peeks out through his fingers to see Oikawa with his hands flat together in front of him, looking as though he could burst into tears of joy any moment now.

God, Yahaba hates his friends.

“ _It’s not that amazing!_ ” he hisses. “ _Stop being so excited by this!_ ”

“I can’t help it, Shigeru, you just made my whole week. I will never stop being tickled shitless over this. Oh my god, you’ve given me so much to work with.”

Yahaba makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, but sighs in defeat.

“Whatever, but please keep this to yourself.”

Oikawa giggles shamelessly.

“Oh, no, Shige-chan, you _know_ I have to tell Iwa-chan about this.”

Yahaba’s head hits the table.

 

* * *

 

Outside, the setting sun casts deep shadows through the window and tints the room a dull orange, a stark contrast to the dreary gray that’s been hanging over the city. The weather has been unusually clear these past few days, a welcome reprieve from the cold indifference of winter. Yahaba watches the shadows reach across the carpet, slowly engulfing Fumio from her place across the floor. He’s got his phone in his hands, fingers hovering over the touch screen keypad, his message thread with Kyoutani open, but he ends up deleting anything that he writes.

Instead, he backs out of the messages and opens Instagram instead. Kyoutani hasn’t posted much lately, and Yahaba really hopes he’s okay. He finds his profile and scrolls through the photos, smiling to himself as flowers and dogs pass over his screen. Yahaba stops when he sees a photo from the previous month. His eyes look between himself and Kyoutani, standing together in the snow of Yuzawa, arms around each other's shoulders smiling brightly. Kyoutani had insisted they ride the train the two and a half hours there just because Yahaba offhandedly mentioned he would have liked to see snow this season. They only spent one night there, but it was easily one of Yahaba’s favorite trips.

Only a month ago but it already feels so far way.

Time is excruciatingly cruel.

He hears someone grabbing the door handle to his apartment and shoots up straight on the couch, fumbling to turn on the light before Masae gets the key to turn. She steps into the room, gives him a suspicious look, and takes off her shoes and coat. She stands for a moment appraising him before walking over and joining him on the other end of the couch. Her lips are turned downwards in a pout.

“Welcome home,” Yahaba finally greets.

“You seem like you’re up to something,” she accuses, turning to face him.

He gives her a small smile.

“No, I just wanted to talk is all...”

Her eyebrows knit together.

“Is this about earlier?” her tone is harsh, meant to keep him from going, but he imagines Kyoutani urging him to hold his ground and so he does.

“Yes and no,” he says honestly. “I’ve been...talking to some of my friends about our relationship.” Her expression immediately goes dark, but he’s so tired of staying quiet. “They told me that I really need to talk to you about some of my concerns, so I’m just going to do it. I would appreciate if you would listen to what I have to say, then we can talk this all out.” She makes no move to respond, so he keeps going. “Masae, you didn’t seem very concerned about how upset I was this morning, and that kind of hurt? I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but that shouldn’t matter because it really did upset me. I don’t think you’re trying to hurt me physically, but lately you kind of do, like a lot? I know we’re going through a bunch of shit, but I don’t think you realize how hard you hit sometimes. And I...I know you’ve seen the bruises, but you still don’t stop?”

He pauses, eyes flicking between her blue eyes expectantly.

“Shigeru, I...I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t care. I don’t mean to hurt you, and I didn’t think that it was affecting you so much because you never really said anything before. I thought that this morning was you just trying to start a fight. I really am sorry, and I’ll try to keep that in mind in the future.”

Yahaba can feel some of the stress loosening its hold on his chest. It’s short lived, however, as her perfectly pampered face twists into a scowl.

“But I don’t appreciate you talking to your _friends_ about us before talking to _me_. What else have you told them?”

He swallows.

“I wasn’t sure how to talk to you…”

“Shigeru, what else have you told them? You’ve been talking to that faggot flower boy, haven’t you?”

He clenches his jaw. His back straightens, reminding her how small she is in comparison, and he glares down at her, eyes cold.

“You will _not_ call him that. Ever. Again.”

Masae seems to shrink in on herself, and he feels a pang of guilt for scaring her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, eyes wide.

Yahaba deflates.

“That’s…” He swallows. He had spent so long ignoring the way she’s treated the people around him, but he knows he can’t remain ignorant any longer. “That’s another thing. You’ve always been decent enough around Tooru, but the way you’ve been treating Kyoutani is completely unacceptable. It’s really hard for me to acknowledge that the way my own girlfriend has treated my best friend has been...frankly, disgusting. Kyou hasn’t really complained to me about it, but I still see it, I see it and I ignore it, but I can’t anymore.” He clenches his fists in the fabric of his pants, steeling himself. “Kyou is gay, Masae, he was gay when he was growing up, he woke up gay this morning, and he’s going to be gay into the future. And there’s not a _damn_ thing wrong with that. Tooru is just as interested in men as Kyou is, but you targeted Kyou. _Why?_ ”

Masae’s jaw shifts uncomfortably. She seems reluctant to answer, but Yahaba makes it obvious that he’s not going to let the question go unanswered. She sighs dramatically.

“Really, Shigeru? Have you not seen how he _looks_ at you? How am I supposed to feel when the fa-- _homo_ running around all the time with _my_ boyfriend is practically drooling all over him?”

Yahaba feels his eye twitch at her remark.

“I’ve assumed he’s attracted to me, but--”

Masae scoffs.

“ _Attracted_. He’s passed that milestone months ago. That man is _smitten_ with you, absolutely and hopelessly in love.”

Yahaba opens and closes his mouth, taken back by what she’s saying.

“He’s not...I don’t think--”

“Oh, please,” she sneers. “I _fucking hate_ the way he looks at you, like you’re everything. And you just let him!”

He turns away for the first time, but he’s not entirely shocked by her accusations, though it’s not something he had really thought about before. Still, he finds it a little exaggerated.

Their eyes meet once again.

“What if he is in love with me? What does it change? He’s never _done_ anything to me, never said anything that would suggest he wants me to be with him. What does it matter?”

“Just because he says it doesn’t mean he doesn’t think it.”

“And what does that fucking matter?!” She retreats back a second time, but Yahaba doesn’t want to stop. “You’re still friends with plenty of your exes! You have a lot of male friends who I know would love to be with you, but it never bothers me because I _trust_ you! You can be friends with someone who's interested in your sex and it stay a healthy and positive friendship, Masae. I have plenty of straight and bisexual girl friends and you don’t seem to care all that much about them. Hell, I know plenty of gay and bisexual men and you don’t seem to care, even though you know that I like other me--”

“ _Shut up!_ ” she warns, all fear completely drained from her face. “ _Do not finish that sentence_.”

Yahaba falls silent, his shoulders slumping as he looks deep into her eyes.

“That’s another thing.”

“ _Shut up._ ”

“Masae, I like women--”

“ _Shigeru, fucking stop!_ ”

“-- _and_ men.”

The sound of her slap echoing through the otherwise silent room is enough to send Fumio running for the bedroom.

Yahaba sits, stunned, and he can hear Masae beginning to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers, hugging herself. “I’m sorry, just shut up, I don’t want to hear that, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Yahaba fixes his eyes on her. Tears are streaming down her face and his first thought is that she’ll ruin her makeup.

“I’m sorry, Shigeru, please, we can fix this…”

He rubs his cheek, but the sting from the slap doesn’t quite register with him just yet.

“Shigeru, please, don’t leave..!”

He was on his feet without even realizing he had stood up. He didn’t really feel anything in that moment, as though the force of her hand was enough to beat the emotions right out of his chest. Without a word, he turns on his heels, ignoring her sobs as he grabs his jacket, slipping on his shoes and retreating from the apartment.

> **Me**  [2017/01/27, 18:23]  
>  Meet me on the fire escape in 10 min

Yahaba doesn’t receive a text back but he knows that he’ll be there. The chill of the oncoming night begins nipping at his skin and halfway there he remembers how cold it is outside. He picks up the pace, running shoes slapping against the sidewalk as he lets his body carry him by muscle memory alone, his head still fuzzy and thoughts a million miles away. Once he reaches the flower shop, he slips down the alley next to it and climbs the fire escape, unconcerned with the sound of clanging metal that’s ringing through the growing darkness. The short trip to the top is not enough time.

Kyoutani is waiting for him, cigarette in hand, his legs slung over the edge of the platform as he patiently waits. Yahaba stops to look at him, but Kyoutani motions him over with a wave of his hand.

“I thought you were trying to quit,” is the first thing to slip out of Yahaba’s mouth as he slides down next to the florist.

Kyoutani exhales through the corner of his mouth, making sure the stream won’t blow into Yahaba’s face. He puts the rest of the cigarette out on the metal of the platform, waiting a moment before pocketing it in his hoodie. He must be freezing.

“Stressed out,” is his gruff response.

He’s not looking at Yahaba. He thinks back to the apology text he never replied to a week ago.

_Why am I such an asshole._

Yahaba throws his weight into Kyoutani’s chest, knocking some of the breath out of him. His arms find their way around him, and after a moment Kyoutani holds him back.

“I’m sorry, Ken.”

Kyoutani doesn’t respond as Yahaba nuzzles his face into the crook of his friend’s neck.

“You’re right about everything and I’m being stupid and selfish and I shouldn’t have ran away and I should have texted you back, and I’m just sorry.”

Kyoutani snorts in response. He pushes Yahaba away, who complies in confusion, before pulling him into his lap, back to chest. Kyoutani’s arms are around his waist, squeezing him tight for warmth. He rests his nose against his shoulder, Yahaba too big for him to reach any higher. Yahaba crosses his arms on the metal railing and the two look out over the rooftops at the last remaining light of day barely illuminating the skyline littered with buildings. From far off, the smell of peanut butter washes over them soothingly.

For once, Yahaba doesn’t mind the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter practically wrote itself. This is my first time actually writing smut, surprisingly enough. Also, with this chapter the fic is officially equal in length to the longest stories I've ever started writing...so I can't wait to keep going. Thanks for your continued interest~
> 
> I was gonna draw out the tattoos for Kyou but my computer died, and I would have waited to post by my impatience wins out over self control.
> 
> Also there's a peanut butter factory a few miles from my house. It's a pleasant smell.


	4. Thanks, Yahaba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoutani wasn’t sure if he was capable of scowling any deeper, but he really hoped Oikawa could recognize his effort.

When Yahaba decided that he would return home to finish his talk with Masae after calming down, Kyoutani was not the least bit surprised. He had given Kyoutani the short version of events, and the florist couldn’t help but agree that they try again. Yahaba had turned around at the door to frown guiltily at him, but Kyoutani would have none of his apologetic bullshit and marched him down the stairs, across the shop, and shoved him out into the cold.

He really did just want whatever would be best for Yahaba, but it became increasingly difficult to keep his personal feelings in check.

A week later, Yahaba and Masae seemed to have come to an agreement and were living peacefully again. At least, that’s what Yahaba had said and Kyoutani was in no position to doubt him. The news was doing strange things to his mood. He was glad to have Yahaba smiling without an obvious storm looming over his head, but at the same time Kyoutani became increasingly frustrated with watching him give Masae chance after chance. The logical part of his brain understood that if Yahaba was only just being confrontational with her, she was only just being given the opportunity to change. The logical part of his brain was beginning to lose out to his heart.

It had been a while since someone had broken his heart. He had forgotten what it felt like.

He never asked for a reminder.

He also didn’t ask for Maru to punch his breast, but she just did it anyway. He shot her a glare to his side, and she returned it with a grin.

“You look miserable.” She sounded far too amused about it.

“I’m spending my afternoon off working with two psychos, what did you expect.”

Another punch came from his other side, this one less controlled, but still paltry to Kyoutani. He swiveled around in his stool to glare at the blond next to him (another of his childhood friends). She glared back, but it was tainted with a pout.  Through the years Kojima Kimiko had remained stubbornly childish.

“Kenni is being mean,” she complained to no one in particular. “Mean, mean, mean!”

She smacked the counter around her ramen bowl between each word, and Kyoutani really hoped she wouldn’t end up making a mess.

“Kyou is pouting, Kimi, you should be intimately familiar with the action.”

The blond shot a glare past Kyoutani, but Maru was already ignoring her. A crash sounded from the back room closely followed by a loud apology from Yachi. This was really not how Kyoutani wanted to spend his day off at the start of a busy season.

“So,” Maru went on casually, picking at her tofu, “what’s eating you?”

Kyoutani grunted in place of a response.

“The only person you really talk to about your gay little feelings is also the person causing your gay little feelings, but please, continue to repress so that you may eventually implode.”

Kyoutani remained silent. She was right, Yahaba really was the only person he talked to about feelings. Before Yahaba, he had simply internalized everything, it had always been easier that way.

A warm hand found his. He looked back to his right to see Kimi studying him, her brows knit together as she attempted to read his expression. She had never been very successful at picking up on the emotions of others no matter how hard she tried.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured her. He took her hand loosely as a thought came to him. “Hey, Kimi, how’d you get over me when we broke up?”

She stared at him blankly for a moment. It occurred to him that ten years later, this was the first they had spoken of that time.

“I didn’t for a while. A long, long while. It took, like, a few years, I think?”

Kyoutani’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. They had dated for a few months in middle school in Kyoutani’s attempt to ‘correct’ himself. Kimi had been in love with him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself to return her feelings. He had been overwhelmed by guilt for months after breaking her heart.

“That’s a while,” he mused, looking between her green eyes as though he could find some trace of deception there. It was a lost cause; she had always been painfully honest. “How did you get over it, then? Me not returning your feelings.”

She hummed thoughtfully, readjusting her orange framed glasses.

“I dunno. Yeah, I was upset, like a super lot, but also I just wanted you to be happy. It was really hard for a while, but it would have been harder if you weren’t in my life anymore. I loved you too much to want to miss anything, even you moving on with other people, so it was okay that it hurt.”

When Kimi was done she turned away to finish her ramen as though she hadn’t said anything of any significance. Kyoutani watched her for a moment before doing the same, finishing his broth in one gulp. He sat the styrofoam bowl back down on the table, focusing on the remaining drops of liquid pooling at the bottom of the bowl and considering what his friend had just told him.

Even though it had taken her a long time to move on from their breakup, she still stayed by his side out of love and wanted to make sure he would be alright.

“Love can tear you to pieces, but it can also be greater than the pain it causes,” Maru muttered from his left. “Was that helpful for you, Kyou?”

He shrugged his shoulders, still staring into the empty bowl. Even if Yahaba were able to mend his relationship with Masae, Kyoutani had no plans of cutting ties with him. If Kimi could endure the heartache, he felt more confident that he would be able to as well.

He turned to Maru, though she refused to return his intense gaze.

“It’s starting to sound more ‘n more like you actually sympathize with me, Maruyama.”

“Don’t mistake my pity for kindness. You’re simply not as much fun when you’re moping.” She packed up the rest of her uneaten tofu carefully. “Anyway, Kimi has an appointment today. We should be going.”

They said their goodbyes and disappeared into the cold. With a glance at the clock, Kyoutani let out a long sigh. He stepped into the back to assess the damage Yachi had caused. He’s relieved to see that Kiyoko has managed to keep up with damage control in Kyoutani’s absence.

Kiyoko’s eyes meet his from her perch on the workbench at the far end of the room. His gaze wanders down to Yachi, and he doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s fretting over her own arrangement, likely weighing the cons far more heavily than the pros.

“You’ve come a long way.”

Yachi jumps, whipping around, her heart nearly bursting out of her chest.

“K-Kyoutani-kun!” Her breathing evening out again, she steps aside looking between her boss and her creation. “Do you really think that…?”

He gives her a firm nod.

“You’ll be great help for the upcoming rush. Good work, both of you. Let’s call it a day.”

“Are you kicking us out?” Kiyoko slides gracefully off the table, immediately busying herself with disassembling Yachi’s creation.

Kyoutani steps forward with a grunt, grabbing at the flowers.

“I’ll take care of it. Get outta here, both of you.”

“Kyoutani-kun, this is my mess, I don’t mind cleaning it up.”

Yachi fidgets nervously next to her boss, unsure of what would be most appropriate for this situation. She didn’t have long to wait before Kiyoko placed a hand gently on her back.

“Would you like to get lunch with me, Hitoka-chan?”

Yachi’s eyes lit up. After a brief exchange of thanks between the three of them, the last of the girls were gone leaving Kyoutani to reorganize the flowers they had been practicing with that morning. Valentine’s day was fast approaching, but Kyoutani was confident that this year's team would pull it off without issue, even with the added stress of a massive order placed by none other than--

“Yoohoo, Kyouken-chan~”

Kyoutani whipped around lightning quick, his glare practically dripping venom at the last person he wanted to see today. Oikawa remained unfazed, as per the usual.

“You must have been pretty deep in thought, huh? I didn’t mean to disturb your daydream--”

“ _We’re closed_ ,” he snarled, completely out of patience for the magazine editor.

“Oh, come now, Kyouken-chan,” Oikawa chided, though his voice was just a bit more serious. “You’re working anyway and I’ll just be a moment.”

Kyoutani turned back to the task at hand, but Oikawa took his silence as a sign to continue.

“I have no doubts that my Valentine’s order will be flawlessly executed, as usual, and of course you’re always invited to the Valentine’s party, but I just wanted to pop in since I was around to talk about Shige-chan’s birthday.”

“It's a month away,” he grunted.

“Mmmm.” Oikawa entered the room, slender hands roaming delicately over the flowers waiting to be taken back to the fridge. “We’ll both be rather busy this month, and it’ll be March before we know it.”

“You even ask if he _wants_ a party?”

Okawa laughed, leaning against the workbench, careful to leave a comfortable amount of space between them.

“I’m not planning anything huge, give me a little more credit. Though, if you wanted to jump out of a cake, I could definitely swing something…”

Kyoutani fixed him with a glare, warning him to get to the point.

“No fun, you’re just no fun.” Oikawa plucked a tulip from the table, twirling it between his long fingers. “Machan will be fussy if we do it at their place, so I’m going to organize it at the office. I’ll text you the details, okay?”

The smile Oikawa gave him could put the sun to shame. He knew Oikawa was used to getting what he wanted with his smile alone, but from day one Kyoutani hadn’t been fooled. He could see right through Oikawa Tooru. He was no more than a deceptive snake.

“You coulda texted me, but instead you’re here.”

“I was in the neighborhood~”

“Oikawa, I’m not playing games with you. I’m fucking tired, so what the hell do you want?”

Oikawa hummed in faux thought, shifting his weight around as he crossed his legs casually.

“Kyouken-chan, would you mind telling me the difference between the meanings of red camellias and yellow camellias?”

Kyoutani eyed him suspiciously before humoring him. “In love and longing.”

“Do you remember the first day we met?” He glanced over at the florist, eyes mischievous. “I asked you what the bouquet you were making meant and you said something along the lines of _‘I don’t have time for prissy fucking flower language.’_ ”

Kyoutani’s grip tightened on the rose stem he currently held, snapping it in two. His eyes were like fire as he attempted to convey to Oikawa all of the hatred he felt for the editor with one glare.

“You learned all about _‘prissy fucking flower language’_ anyway.”

Kyoutani’s hands were in fists at his sides.

“You got a point to make?”

Oikawa laughed triumphantly down at him. Kyoutani’s eye twitched, his rage boiling up through his body. If he were the same person as just a few years ago, he would have laid Oikawa out already. He was both relieved and regretful that he was no longer that kid.

“You’ve changed a lot this past year. You’re welcome, by the way, for dragging Shige-chan all the way to meet you. I’m a bit surprised, though, that that witch hasn’t been run off yet--EEP!”

Oikawa clutched at his chest, staring wide eyed at Kyoutani where he had slapped his large palms against the workbench. If the florist’s glare couldn't melt steel before, it definitely could now. Oikawa took a cautious step back.

“ _Get the fuck out_ ,” Kyoutani growled, voice lower than Oikawa had ever heard it before.

“Kyouken-chan, I was only saying--”

“No,” he interrupted, bringing a hand up to jab at Oikawa's chest. “I'm gettin’ real tired of this shit. I get it, Masae is a fucking succubus sent to drain Shigeru and we all hate her. Fine. Whatever! But this shit you're tryina pull? You make me sick, Oikawa. Shigeru is your fucking friend and you've been playing with his heart. Actually, my heart, too! I fell for him just like you wanted, so congrat-u-fucking-lations! This past year I've had to watch my best friend and the man I love stress himself sick trying to balance me on top of figuring out his shitty fucking relationship issues with his girlfriend, _who he didn't stop loving just because I showed up, by the way_.”

Somehow Oikawa had been turned around, backed out of the room with each sharp jab to the chest. He let out a strangled sound when his back hit the hall wall, eyes wide and fearful of the shorter man. It were as though he had only just realized that Kyoutani could tear him apart with his bare hands.

“Instead of honestly talking to your own friend, you got me involved to do your dirty work. I'm not a fucking pawn for you to use, you pompous sack of shit. I'm not here for you to toy with and neither is Shigeru. All you do is manipulate people because you think you know everything, don't you? Forget that Yahaba's relationship is _completely his choice._ We don't need your damn meddling, and if you know what's good for you, you'll leave. Us. Alone. Understood?”

Kyoutani’s face was inches from Oikawa's by the time he was done yelling, finger jabbed uncomfortably at his chest, holding the editor against the wall. Oikawa made a swift attempt to recompose himself, a half-hearted grin twitching nervously on his lips.

“You’ve said more to me in the last five minutes than the entire time I’ve known you.”

Kyoutani wasn’t sure if he was capable of scowling any deeper, but he really hoped Oikawa could recognize his effort.

“I better not see your sorry ass before the fourteenth. Get out before I throw you out.”

Kyoutani is seething by the time his day ends. Even when Yahaba joins him at the gym that evening he can't keep the rage from showing, bench pressing weights as though they had personally offended him. When Yahaba finally asks what happened he simply replies, _“Oikawa,"_ irritably and is thankful when it’s left at that.

Yahaba manages to convince him to end the day in the gym’s pool, and Yahaba has been splashing around happily for the better part of fifteen minutes, tugging Kyoutani around playfully. It’s a much needed change in pace.

Still, Kyoutani’s not done seething regardless of the small grin tugging at the right side of his mouth. He ends up hanging off the pool’s edge with his arms folded together supporting his chin. He’s alone with his thoughts long enough to begin turning the conversation with Oikawa over in his head again; he’s mortified that he actually admitted his feelings for Yahaba out loud to Oikawa of all people. He’s just so fed up and needed the bastard to understand exactly how he fucked up.

Yahaba snakes his arms around Kyoutani’s chest, pressing flush against his back. The warmth was welcome in the cold water.

Kyoutani half expected Yahaba to pry further about Oikawa, but instead he clung to him silently. Eventually he began meticulously tracing the lines of flowers inked into Kyoutani’s left arm, following down from his shoulder, connecting them by the lines of tidal waves between the flowers. Yahaba let out a content sigh against the back of his neck.

“Why do you like flowers so damn much?”

Yahaba continued tracing the shapes until he reached where Kyoutani’s head was blocking the rest of his forearm. He poked the florist’s cheek.

“Why do you have so many tattoos?”

Kyoutani grunted.

“Just do.”

Yahaba mocked the noise.

_“Just do, too.”_

Kyoutani snorted at that, flexing the muscles of his back against Yahaba’s exposed chest. It makes Yahaba giggle.

He pulls back from Kyoutani to run his fingers idly along his back and shoulders and Kyoutani assumes he’s studying the giant wolf inked there, though he knows he’s seen it many times before. He feels Yahaba shift behind him, grabbing his waist firmly and before Kyoutani can question his movements, there are soft lips pressing gently on the middle of his back, just above the water where Kyoutani knows the muzzle of the wolf to be. A shiver runs up his spine as his muscles tense in response.

Kyoutani will die prematurely and it will be entirely Yahaba’s fault.

“I love this one so much.” Yahaba slides back against Kyoutani, his grip around his waist loose. “I love all your tattoos, of course, but it’s my favorite.”

“Better than the cherry blossoms?” he teases. He doesn’t expect the hand that wanders low on his left hip, lightly stroking the spot where he knows the cherry blossom branch to be. Kyoutani is almost regretting it being so low. Almost.

Yahaba seems to realize what he’s doing because he pulls away completely in one swift motion, breath hitching.

“I’m getting cold,” he breathes out quickly and hoists himself out of the water, avoiding eye contact. Kyoutani catches the faint blush on his cheeks, most likely embarrassment. “Come on.”

Kyoutani hangs there for a moment longer in an attempt to suppress his wild imagination. He’s suddenly glad that the water is so cold.

Once they’re on the way back to their homes, Yahaba stops Kyoutani before they part.

“Here.” He unwinds the teal scarf from Kyoutani’s neck and slings it over his own shoulder. Before Kyoutani can feel disappointed by the loss, Yahaba has removed his own red scarf and wraps it around Kyoutani’s neck instead. He gets a good whiff of _Yahaba,_ a scent that had faded from the previous scarf. “I didn’t really like the teal on you. This one suits your skin tone much better.”

Kyoutani really hopes Yahabe can’t tell that he’s blushing through the pink flush left on him by the lingering cold.

“Whatever. Like I care about stupid shit like that…”

Yahaba smiles fondly at him.

“It’s cute seeing a big, scary guy like you blushing.”

_Shit._

Yahaba laughs, loud and honest. When he’s done, Kyoutani could swear he was glowing in the lamp light.

“Talk to you later, Kyou.”

He hums in agreement and watches Yahaba walk off into the sunset.

Kyoutani spends the next week finishing up preparations for their Valentine’s Day rush. When the week is coming closer, the shop is packed with more workers than he can say he is comfortable with, but having so much help definitely relieves the stress. The entire week is non stop motion with Yachi, Kiyoko, Maru, Yahaba, a few inconsequential part-timers, and even Watari in and out helping with the organization, arrangements, and assisting in whatever other way they were able. Kyoutani isn’t happy about waking up at four a.m. to begin Valentine’s Day, but he’s ready and making deliveries out of the company van on time and couldn’t be happier when the work day ends. Even the delivery to Oikawa’s workplace went smoothly, Iwaizumi and Yaku being sent to assist him and Oikawa not making a single appearance.

He knows that sales will still be up through the remainder of the week, but it’ll be nothing compared to Valentine’s Day itself, so he rests easy, lounging on his couch with Dai curled up on his feet. Yahaba is out to dinner with Masae but still makes time to text him.

_Kinda odd for him to be texting so much on a date…_

Yahaba seems to be in a good mood, though, so he dismisses it. The teacher has been in an high spirits since the night they swapped scarves and hasn’t gone a day without texting or seeing Kyoutani since. He’s been too busy with holiday preparations to think too much about Yahaba and Masae mending their relationship, so he’s not sure how he’ll do once the week is done.

He’s taking things one day at a time. Still, he wonders if he should try to step back from the situation, but isn’t sure how to go about it.

His phone buzzes on his stomach. Ignoring it, he goes back to idly reading his book, focused intensely on understanding the English, but stumbling on some of the advanced words. His phone buzzes again, but continues to go ignored. It’s not until a series of buzzes begins irritating his stomach that he finally picks up the device to see what the commotion is about.

 

> **That Asshole With The Tongue** [2017/02/14, 20:03]  
>  hey good lookin whats cookin
> 
> **That Asshole With The Tongue** [20:11]  
>  i know ur not doin nothin asshole so talk 2 me
> 
> **That Asshole With The Tongue** [20:19]  
>  (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ  
>  ken damit  
>  im tryin to ask u 2 toorus thing friday  
>  so be my date cause i dont have a bf rn  
>  ur still single rite  
>  help me out i cant be the sexiest person there but also dateless  
>  i will suck ur dick  
>  omg that sounds so fun say yes were gonna have the best fuckin friday holy shit
> 
> **Me** [20:23]  
>  Sure
> 
> **That Asshole With The Tongue** [20:24]  
>  yaaaaaaaaaaaaas  
>  one condition bring ur motorcycle i ride in style
> 
> **Me** [20:25]  
>  Asking a lot of me
> 
> **That Asshole With The Tongue** [20:25]  
>  told you ill make it worth ur while lol  
>  see u friday bby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really realize how heavy this fic was until I stared writing it so I hope that despite the argument with Oikawa this one's a little less depressing. Things are about to escalate. Also I've had that hc about Kyou for eeeever that he would try really hard to just not be gay but eventually is like "whelp NEVERMIND THEN FUCK" and have to hurt someone.
> 
> I'm doing way better at writing than I thought I would so I'm gonna shoot for Sunday updates \o/ Also, comments appreciated *thumbs up*


	5. Thanks, Watari, really

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, you know, I’m going about my day, show up to Tooru’s party, find out Kyou brought a really hot guy with him, and realize that I think I love Kyoutani??” There’s another hum and Yahaba narrows his eyes. “Why do you not seem the least bit surprised about this?”
> 
> “Yahaba…” Watari takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “Are you for real...you honestly had no idea until just now…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a short-lived disregard for sexual comfort and Yahaba having a very mild panic attack.

When Yahaba had returned home a few weeks ago to try rationally talking out his relationship issues with his girlfriend for the second time, the conversation had gone better than he had expected; Masae had promised to keep her homophobic thoughts to herself and attempt to reevaluate her issues on the subject, though any insinuation that Yahaba had ever been with other men through his life still made her visibly uncomfortable. When they had first moved in together, she had forbid him from having his own sex toys, repulsed that he would ever need his own vibrator, so Yahaba had been forced to leave a box with such possessions with Watari. She was still not willing to let him bring the box home (now at Kyoutani’s apartment at Watari’s insistence) but he let it go for the time being. He hoped they could take that one step at a time.

Masae had also promised to treat Kyoutani better, admitting that it wasn’t fair to him if her trust issues were with Yahaba. Though she wasn’t friendly with Kyoutani (honestly, who would have expected her to be) she was civil and kept her negative comments to herself the few times they had seen one another since. The three had gone walking together one afternoon and after many complaints of being too cold, Kyoutani had dropped his jacket over her shoulders, the heavy leather engulfing her. She was obviously irritated to be given _his_ jacket (she detested his cologne and the garment was permanently imprinted with the scent) and to now have something heavy to carry along, but hadn’t said anything for fear of saying the wrong thing. Yahaba didn’t miss the satisfied smirk on Kyoutani’s face at Masae’s displeasure, that bastard.

Other promises were made that morning. She had promised to stop being physical with him (though found herself shoving him into the bathroom sink one morning, frustrated with his time consuming primping. The bruise left on his hip hadn’t been mentioned by either of them).

Yahaba promised to keep her updated on where he was and what he was doing more often (though after a week of getting “with Kyoutani doing x” texts, she had told him to just let her know when he was out instead).

Masae had promised to pay more attention to his body language during sex instead of ignoring his discomfort for her own pleasure. (They had attempted to make love several times, but Yahaba didn’t miss the bored look in her eyes or how she would lie about her orgasm. She even seemed bored with the way he went down on her, but after repeatedly asking what he could do to improve her experience and getting “it’s fine” back, he dropped it.)

More had been said that morning, though the majority of the promises had lasted no more than a week. Despite Masae seeming more willing to talk with him she also seemed increasingly secretive at the same time. He figured she just needed her own space and didn’t question it much, not that he had much of a right to.

After the week of broken promises he found himself snuggling half naked with the very man Masae was so anxious about, running his hands along his skin and being more bold than he thought he was capable of. Looking back on that night, Yahaba felt guilt tugging at his insides. No matter how little ended up changing with his current relationship, he had no right touching Kyoutani like that, teasing the man he cared so much for, yet he had and he couldn’t take that back.

The image of Kyoutani partially naked in his hold kept coming back to him and eventually he began to wonder if he even wanted to take that moment back. If he had a chance to do that over, would he? Would he have stopped at tracing his fingers along Kyoutani’s tattoos, never put his lips to him, never caressed his hip? He began thinking about what it would have been like to run his hand lower, under the waistband of his swim trunks--

There was a twitch in his pants as Yahaba laid there wide eyed, disgusted with himself. His breath hitched as he attempted to regain control of his thoughts, mortified with the scenarios he had been playing out in his head. It was one thing for his sleeping mind to conjure images like that without his permission, but another for him to create them himself.

_Kyoutani is a person, not an object, and he’s not there for your pleasure._

Yahaba took a deep breath. Really, what was wrong with him?

He rolled over onto his side and glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. The angry red digital readout told him _01:54_ (Valentine’s day already...) and he let out a long sigh. Masae had not returned home that night, the third night in the past week, though Yahaba would be lying if he said he were upset about it.

He had been helping Koutani out all week once he was done with his teaching duties and had been having dinner over there anyway. Thinking back on it, Masae had been particularly distant with him the past week.

He really wasn’t sure why it didn’t put a damper on his spirits. Even alone in the bed he normally shared with the girlfriend he was beginning to think hated him, he felt happier than he had in months. The extra bed space felt...nice. Comfortable. He had rarely slept alone in the past three years, but it was a nice change in pace. He wondered if Masae felt the same, wondered where she was, who she was with.

Yahaba picked up his phone from the other side of the bed and opened his message thread with Masae, but his mind seemed to blank. After minutes of staring at the chat box he typed out a quick _“Be safe.”_ before backing out and opening his thread with Kyoutani.

> **Me** [2017/02/14, 02:03]  
>  Good luck tomorrow. I’ll text you even though I know you’ll be busy.  
>  Save something for me. I’m cute and deserve it~

Yahaba falls asleep not much later.

> **KyouKen ♥** [04:36]  
>  That’s gay

That day Yahaba keeps his promise. He texts Kyoutani throughout the day, random thoughts and observations and several Snapchats predominantly of the more cringe worthy Valentine’s displays littering the school. One of his favorite students shuffles by with a teddy bear larger than he is and agrees to pose for a photo with a look of absolute indifference to rival Kunimi’s, the teddy bear hanging off his back with the arms held over his shoulders. Yahaba isn’t surprised when there are several gifts left for him and at the end of the day he sends Kyoutani proof of his spoils, a little uncomfortable to get gifts from students but pleased nonetheless to be reminded he’s not a fossil just yet (Kyoutani is always telling him as much, but the man is practically a child, what would he and his limited life experience know).

He hasn’t seen Masae all morning and she doesn’t text him back until 3 p.m. to confirm their dinner plans. Yahaba had to make the reservations weeks in advance, so he lets out a sigh of relief that they don’t have to cancel. He does find it rather odd that she says she’ll meet him there instead of going together from the apartment.

Once he’s home and partially ready, his curiosity gets the better of him. He looks around their bathroom and feels his brow furrow. There are several items of hers that are just...missing. He had thought the cabinets looked a bit bare lately, but hadn’t thought too much about it. Once again, he dismisses it as her needing some more space. He had to remind himself that she was also hurting through all of this. He really hoped that whichever girlfriend she was staying with so much was understanding of the situation.

Yahaba finished fiddling with his hair and tie and sent Kyoutani one last selfie. Only a few minutes later his phone lit up with a notification and he glanced down.

_Kyoutani Kentarou took a screenshot_

There were butterflies in Yahaba’s stomach.

The date started out pleasant enough. Masae met him outside the restaurant on time and it only took ten minutes for them to be seated. They talked a bit more than they had been lately, and the conversation was pleasant. Yahaba asked if she had been doing okay staying with her friends, but from there the mood began to dwindle. Masae started constantly checking her phone, typing out texts frequently, and after ten minutes of being mostly ignored Yahaba found himself doing the same. He was relieved that Kyoutani was back at home for the day and replying quickly.

“Are you texting Kyoutani?”

Yahaba looked up from his phone. Masae wasn’t looking at him, eyes downcast as she poked at her salad.

“Yes.” He decided honesty would be best. “I’m sorry, you just seemed...distracted. Was that the friend you’re staying with?”

Masae pursed her lips.

“ _Yes_ ,” she practically seethed.

“Is...everything alright…?”

He could tell she was chewing the inside of her lip. She looked up with a huff, then gave him the fakest smile he had ever seen on her.

“Yes, of course.”

He could feel his own composure slipping.

“Who have you been staying with? Makoto?”

“ _Would you stop fucking prying_ ,” she hissed. She took a surprised breath, looking around quickly to make sure she hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention. “Just. Let’s not talk about it, okay? I don’t want to fight with you.”

Yahaba clenched his jaw. She hadn’t talked to him this way since their last fight, but at the back of his mind he wondered when she would snap at him again.

_You probably deserve it, though. You’re lucky she’s still giving you the time of day._

He let it go for the moment and made awkward small talk until the end of the meal. Masae seemed almost reluctant to return home with him, but she did.

Yahaba decided to be a little bold, and leaned down to kiss her. He was pleased when she didn’t pull back but a bit surprised when she quickly took things a step further, backing him onto the couch and crawling onto his lap, licking into his mouth. A bit out of the blue, but the attention was nice, as was the hand currently stroking him through his slacks. She lowered herself onto the floor sooner than he would have expected, skipping any teasing kisses in favor of unzipping his pants and pulling his half hard member out of his pants. She wasted no time putting all of him into her mouth, sucking and bobbing quickly with no buildup or feeling.

_This isn’t right._

Yahaba puts a hand to her shoulder, gently pushing back but not with enough force to make her move. She continues on.

“M-Masae…”

She gives him a half-hearted hum, eyes closed as she works.

“Masae, stop.” He gives her shoulder a more firm push, but she resists the motion. “Please stop, Masae, I don’t think...this isn’t a good idea…”

She pulls away at that, fixing him with a glare.

“I’m doing you a favor, Shigeru, so just shut up and _let me finish_.”

Masae goes back down, once again taking him all in, but his chest feels tight and his breathing is picking up and he’s self-aware enough to know it’s not from any pleasure. He can’t speak, can’t move as she continues on.

_“It matters because I fucking care about you, Shigeru!”_

Kyoutani’s voice comes to him. Kyoutani wants him to be more assertive, wants him to speak his mind, thinks that if he’s uncomfortable, he shouldn’t be silent about it. Kyoutani cares about how Yahaba feels.

_When did I become this weak?_

Yahaba catches his breath, shaking his head to clear the fog settling there. This time, when he pushes Masae’s shoulder, he does so with enough force to push her back. She gags from the unexpected motion, her mouth suddenly empty and the scowl she gives him has him flinching back.

For the second time, he holds his ground.

“I said _stop_.”

Masae’s eyes dart across his face and her glare begins to break down into an upset pout.

“Is...is this not what you want…?”

“Masae, you don’t want to be doing this.” He tucks himself back in. “I don’t...I don’t want you doing this if it’s only to shut me up.”

She opens her mouth but the words don’t come out. Masae stands, looking down at him, her breath shaky. Yahaba reaches up to wipe the tears away when they begin falling down her face.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“If you need more time with your friends, I understand,” he says gently, hoping that he comes across genuine.

She takes so long to respond that he’s not sure she would at all.

“...Yeah. I’ll go back...with my friend…”

“I understand, so don’t worry about it.”

The smile she gives him is hollow. He pretends to not notice, just like he pretends her reluctance to give her friend a name doesn’t worry him.

She’s gone with a bag of her things an hour later. Yahaba has a text to Kyoutani typed out, but can’t bring himself to hit send. His mind runs through the events of the past month, and he feels guilty to admit that Kyoutani has been his crutch the entire time, despite his own hardships. He copies the text, backs out of the thread, and instead sends it to Watari.

Kyoutani comes over the next day anyway, insisting that he absolutely has to see Fumio ( _"I know she misses me, jackass.”_ ). Yahaba can’t help but tell him about Masae staying with her friend for a while. He feels guilty when Kyoutani pulls him into a hug, but he’s grateful for his comfort.

“I’m going to Maruyama’s place to get my bike this week,” Kyoutani tells him.

Yahaba can’t help but smile. When they first met, Kyoutani had told him he had a motorcycle, and even though he looked like the type of person who would, Yahaba hadn’t seen it for weeks after they started hanging out. Therefore, it couldn’t possibly have been true.

He looked like a kid getting everything he wanted for Christmas when Kyoutani had brought it home from the safety of Maru’s garage where he stored it during winter.

_“You have a fucking motorcycle!”_

_“I told you I had a fucking motorcycle, asshole.”_

_“I thought you were lying!”_

_“You’re such a dick, Yahaba.”_

“We’ll go out together when it gets a little warmer,” Kyoutani promises.

Yahaba is thankful to have something to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

When Friday comes along Yahaba is expecting the text from Masae apologizing for not being able to make Oikawa’s Valentine’s party. He doesn’t want her to feel awkward (and kind of doesn’t want her to be there), and the event is rather silly anyway, but Oikawa will take whatever opportunity he can get to gather as many people as possible. Kyoutani had mentioned being roped into attending and Yahaba would be lying if he said he weren’t curious as to how.

The sky is clear once again and he feels refreshed as he walks the entire forty five minutes to Oikawa’s company building. When he arrives, he can’t help but grin. Kyoutani’s prized black and yellow motorcycle is parked in front of the building, exactly where Oikawa demands nobody parks. He always threatens to tow anyone who violates the rule, but so far he never has.

Once inside, he smiles politely at the receptionist as he makes his way to the tenth floor, down the hall, and into the banquet room. The large white room is decorated floor to ceiling in white and red, tastefully, even (he thinks there must have been a virgin sacrifice). Red roses and bouquets of various flowers litter the room on every table and he recognizes them as the arrangements Kyoutani had him help with. He’s uncharacteristically a few minutes late and the room is already packed with people, only half of the faces familiar, and Kyoutani’s half bleached head draws his attention instantly.

Oikawa spots him quickly, swooping in with a purpose before Yahaba can meet with his friend.

“Shige-chan, good to see you!” Oikawa’s smile is tight on his face. He grabs Yahaba’s arm and drags him to the side. “Beautiful flowers, by the way, Kyouken-chan told me you helped.”

“Thank you. Uh...is everything alright, Tooru?”

“I just thought you should know...Kyoutani brought a date.”

Yahaba went rigid. His stomach felt like it was trying to fall out of his body.

He swallowed.

“...that’s his decision. I don’t know what it has to do with me.”

Oikawa’s smile tightened, his eyes sympathetic.

“Shigeru, I…”

Yahaba smiles at him. He has no right to feel upset about this.

“Thank you for telling me. We’ll catch up later.”

Yahaba excuses himself despite Oikawa’s gentle protests. He makes a beeline for Kyoutani, pushing past people and if he knows any of them, it doesn’t register. Kyoutani isn’t looking at him, and whirls around in surprise when his elbow is grabbed. His expression softens when he sees who it is.

“Hey.”

Yahaba smiles.

“Hey.”

He notices the crease in Kyoutani’s brow returning, probably worried about something.

“Masae not coming?”

Yahaba shook his head.

“I think she needs more time. We both do. It's okay, though. I'm…I'm fine.”

Kyoutani doesn't argue, he very rarely does when it comes to Yahaba's personal drama.

“Tooru said you brought someone…?”

Kyoutani's shoulders tense but he gives a small nod. Not a moment later and there's an arm swung over Kyoutani's broad shoulder. Yahaba's attention snaps to the blond undercut and he feels his heart drop.

“Kentarou, you sure we can't get wasted?” Terushima Yuuji shakes Kyoutani a bit before his eyes land on Yahaba. “Shigeru! It's been a while, man.”

Yahaba can feel his insides heat up and his palms begin to sweat. Terushima had been Kyoutani's boyfriend not too long before they met. The two had stayed friends with benefits after they broke up, but Kyoutani hadn't mentioned fooling around with him in months. Last Yahaba heard, he was back home in Miyagi.

_I feel sick._

Yahaba forced himself to smile, though it was too bright, the fake smile he had picked up from Oikawa so many years ago.

_Everything is fine, there’s no reason to feel so unsettled, you knew they were still friends, of course they would come together._

Terushima beams at him, completely oblivious, but he knew that Kyoutani was glaring daggers at him right about now for his bullshit facade. Yahaba found himself looking over Terushima as the man chatted away excitedly, carrying an entire conversation by himself. He was noticing things about him that he had never given a second thought to before. The sharp curve of his handsome jaw, the healthy shine to his dirty blond hair. Of course he would be one of the few people to wear a tank top instead of something warmer at the tail end of winter and Yahaba hadn’t felt this physically inadequate in _years_ ; Terushima was a former underwear model for Oikawa’s company, of course he would be extremely fit. Not quite as broad or beefy as Kyoutani, but enough to still be a pinnacle of men’s fitness.

Yahaba still had height on him, and he couldn’t help but stand up straighter, wanting any advantage he had over Terushima. Then he found himself thinking _does Kyoutani even prefer taller men?_

Yahaba bit hard on his own tongue. All of the mixed emotions he had been feeling for months, the dreams and desires he’s tried so hard to ignore, suddenly they all made sense.

_You’re jealous because you have feelings for him._

Breathing suddenly became difficult.

“I’ll be right back.”

Yahaba was heading for the restrooms as quickly as he could manage without drawing any attention to himself. He locked the restroom door before making sure that the stalls were empty and pulled his phone out of his pocket, hitting the speed dial.

The ringing of a call waiting to go through had never seemed to drone on longer or louder than it did now.

Then, both entirely too slowly but not quickly enough the ringing stops and he hears the sound of fabric shifting, hushed whispers on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Yahaba, what’s up?” Watari tries to sound casual, but Yahaba can tell he’s out of breath.

“Shinji, are...are you busy…?”

Watari attempts to laugh lightly, but it comes out as more of a weeze. He can faintly hear a woman’s voice telling him to stop fucking around.

“No, Yahaba, I’m fine to talk--OW, _don’t pinch me…!_ ”

“If Maruyama is there, I can call back later.”

“No!” Watari takes a deep breath. “You sound like you’re about to freak the fuck out. What’s up?”

“Shinji, I think I _am_ freaking the fuck out.”

There’s a hum from the other end of the line and Yahaba can hear fabric rustling again.

“So tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh, you know, I’m going about my day, show up to Tooru’s party, find out Kyou brought a really hot guy with him, and _realize that I think I love Kyoutani??_ ” There’s another hum and Yahaba narrows his eyes. “Why do you not seem the least bit surprised about this?”

“Well...because I’m not…?”

Yahaba makes an indignant sound, completely thrown off.

“What the fuck?!”

“Yahaba…” Watari takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “Are you for real...you honestly had no idea until just now…?”

Yahaba pulls at his hair with his free hand.

“No?! What the fuck does that mean?”

“Shit.” Watari lets out a long sigh. Yahaba can hear the clanking of glasses. “You guys have been practically dating for months, I can’t believe you didn’t realize...I just assumed you didn’t think you could talk to me about it, since it’s a guy guy thing…”

“ _Fuck_ , Shinji...this changes so many things...how did I not fucking notice…?”

“I dunno, you’ve kinda been... _off_ for a while...I figured Oikawa introduced you two for a reason, though, but then you kept putting up with Masae. Then I assumed you were probably ashamed since it’s a dude dude thing…”

“You can just say gay thing.”

“Yeah, well, I assumed you were ashamed of it being a gay thing.”

Yahaba groaned.

“Probably...probably should have brought this up, shouldn’t I have…?”

Yahaba bites his bottom lip and thinks back through the last year. He remembered how he was instantly drawn to Kyoutani, how naturally they had clicked, how they just began doing everything together and it never got old. He’d told more to Kyoutani than he had ever told to anyone, including Watari, and no matter what was going on Kyoutani was always there to support him. He thinks about how willing he was to help Kyoutani with anything, especially his shop, and how after a while it became for more than just working with the flowers. There had been times he had just shown up upset and the florist let him cry on his couch until he felt better.

“You thought I was ashamed…?”

“Well, yeah...you’ve always been pretty bold, but I know that you care a lot about what others think of you. Your parents would shit themselves if you brought home a guy, probably worse if he looked like Kyoutani...not that there’s anything wrong with how he looks!”

Yahaba shook his head before he remembered Watari couldn’t see him.

“No. I think I get it. _Shit_. Shinji, I’ve been fucking up. I think I’ve just been playing with him, and I didn’t even notice...or maybe I did?? I did but I didn’t care?? Oh, god, what the fuck have I been doing to him…”

“Hey, Shigeru, shh.” Watari sounds like he’s trying to comfort a crying child, but Yahaba can’t bring himself to be offended. “Just breathe with me, okay? You’re a bit overwhelmed right now, so try to relax. In...out...in…out...yeah, like that.”

He hadn’t even realized he was having trouble catching his breath again. He followed along with Watari, bracing himself against the bathroom counter as he got his emotions back under control.

“Shinji, I’m a fucking asshole.”

Watari chuckled at that and Yahaba could hear a grin in his voice.

“Well, that’s not really a new thing.”

“Shut up, I’m serious. It’s like...I’ve been so upset about all of this bullshit with Masae that I’ve just...done whatever I felt like because I felt entitled, and that kinda included things with Kyoutani?”

“Liiiike...did you kiss him or something…?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Just kind of...eh, this is so weird to talk about...I maybe touched him inappropriately at the gym and also...took his scarf because...it smelled like him…”

He practically whispered the last part, but Watari picked it up nonetheless.

“Ooooo, Yahaba…”

“It helps me sleep!”

“Okay, let me stop you right there. We could go on and on and you could think excessively about all the shit you’ve done, but let’s not because I don’t want you freaking the fuck out any more than you already have. Whatever you’ve done, Kyoutani will forgive you, so there’s that at least.”

“But that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?! Sure, we fight sometimes and he’ll be mad at me, but I feel like whenever I do anything particularly selfish and shitty, he just brushes it off!”

“Well, what do you expect? He’s, like, head over heels for you.” Watari shushes him before he continues. “I might not know exactly what’s been going on with you two, but I do know that Kyoutani is a grown ass man who can make grown ass man decisions. If he wants to wait around for you to get your head out of your ass, that’s his decision, just like it’s your decision to put up with Masae.”

Yahaba lets out a groan.

“But all that shit aside, your head is finally out of your ass, so I have to ask...what are you going to do now?”

“Hmm…” Yahaba drums his fingers against his thigh, a million possibilities running through his brain. “I might have an idea, but I’ll need some time.”

“Then take it! You’ve got this! Just remember not to revert back to whatever bullshit you were doing, okay?”

“Yeah...thanks, Shinji. I should probably get back to the party.”

“No problem. I’m here if you need me, call any time. Love you, dude, bye!”

After the call ends Yahaba takes a few extra minutes to get himself back together. He tries not to think about the embarrassment of running off like that and knows Kyoutani will be worried about him, so he puts a little extra time into fixing his hair and smoothing down his shirt. Once he’s sure he doesn’t look like he just lost his shit in the bathroom of a fancy fashion magazine headquarters he stands at the bathroom door, steeling himself before clicking the lock open.

The door is yanked forward before he can grab the handle and Kyoutani’s signature glare greets him.

Stepping around him, Yahaba’s quick to give him what he hopes to be a genuine smile, but Kyoutani’s eyebrows only scrunch closer together.

“Sorry, I just needed some--”

Kyoutani grabs his forearm, yanking him around so that they’re standing face to face in the hallway. He doesn’t speak.

“Ken…” Yahaba lets out a defeated sigh and bows forward, resting his forehead on his friend’s shoulder. “Please don’t worry about me…”

He’s answered with a grunt.

“I’m sorry, I’m tired of saying sorry to you, but I am.”

“Shigeru--”

“Mmmmmm.” Yahaba shushes him. “Please let me finish, I really need to say this before I chicken out again. Ken, I think I’ve been living in my own head since we first met and I’ve done a lot of dumb, selfish shit. I need to stand on my own again, but I keep letting you carry me. I shouldn’t be a burden to you.”

Yahaba lifts his head to look at Kyoutani face to face; he can see the worry in his eyes. Yahaba pinches his cheek.

“I’m gonna try to have fun today, but after this I’m taking the next week to myself, okay? I don’t want you worrying about me while I’m getting my shit together.”

“Think things over?”

“Yeah. I feel like I just opened my eyes for the first time. I have a lot to think about. There are some changes I finally need to make. Real changes, not what I’ve been doing lately.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

“I have a few ideas. I know what I _should_ do, at least. I don’t want to say it all out loud until I actually do it, though. Is that okay?”

Kyoutani studies his face before pulling him into a hug.

“What the fuck happened to you feeling better?”

Yahaba chuckles but he knows it sounds strained. Kyoutani squeezes him tight before he finally returns the hug, squeezing back as hard as he can with the hope that Kyoutani understands how much he means to him.

“I'm apparently really good at believing my own bullshit.”

“Makes sense…just keep me updated so I know you're okay.”

“Of course. I just didn't want to disappear again...I really don't mean to, it just happens…”

“Yeah, yeah. You've got a lot of shit going on, I understand.”

Yahaba pulls back from the hug to smirk at him. He can tell Kyoutani is still worried, but his body has at least relaxed and his eyebrows aren't scrunched so tight together.

“Why Ken, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you _cared_ about me.”

“Disgusting,” he scoffs, but a small grin tugs at his lips.

Yahaba steps back, holding firmly into Kyoutani's shoulders and fixes him with a serious look.

“Enough fussing, time to get you back to Terushima. I'm sure he misses you greatly.”

Kyoutani rolls his eyes as he begins walking them back.

“I'm sure he's trying to see how many dicks he can suck before everyone's wasted.”

“Oh, so I don't even have to barter with him?”

Kyoutani shoves him hard enough to make him stumble.

“For some reason, Terushima actually likes you, you know. Likes how much of a bitch you are.” Seeing the look of absolute offense on Yahaba's face, Kyoutani can’t help but bark out a laugh. “His words.”

The two fall into a string of witty remarks and the louder one gets, of course the other had to speak even louder. Wit turned to vulgarity and by the time they returned to the banquet hall, they were shoving shoulders and jabbing chests while attempting to come up with the most unique insults. They hadn't realized all eyes were on them until Kuroo stood on his tiptoes to shout _“fight or fuck!”_

Normally in a room full of Oikawa's friends, many influential in their own ways, Yahaba  would stress over appearances, but he didn't give a second thought or a single shit as he and Kyoutani flipped Kuroo off in unison. Kuroo’s indignant squawking was enough to draw attention away from the duo. Out of the corner of his eye, Yahaba caught Kyoutani grinning at him. He fixed him with a glare, though there was no heat to it.

“What're you smiling about, asshole?”

“Nothing, just haven't seen you like this in a while. I like it better when you're being a snarky sack of dicks than when you're brooding.”

“I-I wasn’t _brooding_.”

Kyoutani clicks his tongue in disagreement. It's only a few moments later when Yahaba gives up and visibly deflated.

“Sorry, I really didn't realize…”

Kyotani shoves him with his shoulder.

“Doin’ it again.”

“Doing what?” Terushima slides up next to Yahaba, completely unfazed that his date was temporarily taken from him. “I sure hope it's me.”

“I'll pass,” Yahaba remarks with a grin.

“Aww, Shigeru, don't be like that.” Terushima slings his arm over Yahaba's shoulders, flashing his perfect white teeth. “I'm not _soliciting_ you, but if you wanted to come back with us I'm not gonna say I'd mind…”

Yahaba's stomach feels like it wants to drop again in protest of Terushima. He can feel Kyoutani's eyes on him, waiting to see what he does. He wonders if he has any power in this situation to make Kyoutani forget Terushima tonight, to forfeit whatever fun they were no doubt going to have later in Kyoutani's apartment in favor of keeping Yahaba happy.

_How much would he give up to stay in my favor?_

“I'm afraid it'll have to wait for another day.”

Terushima groans but he can't hold back the grin for long.

“A damn shame, but you're leaving it open for the future so I can't be too disappointed. Bet you're a lot of fun in bed.”

Terushima waggles his eyebrows. Yahaba's insides felt like they were at war, a mix of flattery and rivalry battling for dominance. He turns to see if Kyoutani is showing any sign of doubt about the current situation. He doesn't look displeased, so Yahaba beams at him with the fake Oikawa smile he knows Kyoutani hates.

“I'm replacing you with Terushima, Kyou, he's way nicer than you. Better looking, too!”

Terushima laughs at the disgusted look on Kyoutani's face.

“Please, doll, call me Yuuji.”

Yahaba hums.

“Yuuji knows how to treat a man right. Take notes, Kyou.”

Kyoutani simply scowls at them, but he seems relieved so Yahaba figures he hasn’t ruined anything that might be going on between him and his date. The three spend the majority of the evening together, Yahaba and Kyoutani going between fighting for the hell of it and people watching while Terushima flirts with anyone who gets too close. Yahaba has to wave Oikawa off from afar on a number of occasions when he finds him shooting worried glances in his direction. Eventually Yahaba just texts him that everything’s okay, but the mothering doesn’t stop until Iwaizumi drags Oikawa off where Yahaba can’t see them.

Halfway through the night and the people attending for the free food and drink have all filtered out, but not before Yahaba has to restrain Oikawa from ripping off the face of a woman blatantly flirting with Iwaizumi behind her husband’s back. The remaining crowd is mostly Oikawa’s friends who just wanted an excuse to get together and drink and are completely hammered by now. Yahaba barely gets back to his seat before he has to stop Kyoutani from decking Kuroo, for what reason Kyoutani refuses to disclose. His ears are pink and his face is scrunched in anger, and other than giving him a smug look Yahaba lets it be.

At some point Terushima finds his way into Yahaba’s lap, nuzzling his jaw and shamelessly whispering to him everything he’d like to do to _Iwaizumi_ if Oikawa weren’t so possessive. Yahaba’s face is a brilliant shade of red before Kyoutani rips Terushima off of him. He can’t bring himself to look at Iwaizumi the rest of the evening, even when Hanamaki decides it’s vocals-only karaoke time and attempts to serenade the man. He’s really not that bad a singer when he’s drunk.

When Kyoutani decides he’s had enough of the party, Yahaba agrees to walk out with them into the chilly night. He had done well to keep his emotions in check, but the closer they came to Kyoutani’s bike, the more he remembered what the two would be leaving to do. He knew he had no right to be upset, but that did nothing to change how he was feeling.

“Your bike always makes me think of that stupid hair you had in high school.”

Yahaba can’t help but be interested, arching an eyebrow at Kyoutani.

“Stupid hair?”

“Oh shit! He hasn’t shown you his high school pictures?” Terushima is grinning ear to ear as though nothing could tickle him more than the rage on Kyoutani’s face. He of course ignores the murderous glare. “You gotta have him show you. He did the bleach thing, but all over, not just the top, and had two black stripes from ear to ear.”

Yahaba gives Kyoutani a look that says _what the fuck_ but he can see the embarrassment in the other’s expression.

“I was a little delinquent, okay! Let me live!”

“I bet you were adorable.”

“Shut it, Yahaba.”

After a few more shoves and petty insults, Yahaba was waving them off. Once Kyoutani turned a corner, Yahaba was fishing his phone out of his pocket, trying to tame the turmoil in his stomach as it increased tenfold. He hit a speed dial number he felt like hadn’t been used in a while and waited, hoping she’d pick up, though he felt anything but relief when she finally did.

“Masae? I need to see you next weekend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope this fills in a little of Yahaba's bullshit. I was super eager to get this chapter written since it's been the first one where I knew exactly what I wanted to have happen. It's also the longest chapter since I apparently really like dialogue x_x
> 
> Anyway. Let's hope Yahaba can reach his goals \o/


	6. Thanks, Kyoutani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't worry. I love you even if you're an ugly fucking cryer,” he mumbles through Yahaba’s hands. 
> 
> Yahaba scoffs. His features soften and he's giving Kyoutani that look again, like he can't believe he's really there and isn't sure what to do with him. He settles for pressing their foreheads together, palms still blocking Kyoutani's mouth.

True to his plan, Yahaba kept mostly to himself the following week, only stopping by Monday afternoon on his way home from work to retrieve his “box of nasty sin” (dubbed so by Watari who had written in all 4 sides in thick black marker). He didn't text Kyoutani daily, but he did keep up a fairly constant stream of Snapchats to show he was still alive and well.

Against his better judgment, Kyoutani sent him a single picture from high school, him surrounded by his three childhood friends on a bright summer day huddled together on a bridge. He thinks he was still seventeen then, perpetual scowl more pronounced with teenage rage and shoulders hunched together in discomfort at being touched from all sides. In hindsight, the black stripes were a bit extra.

Only a few minutes later his phone lit up with Yahaba's response, an eleven second Snapchat video of him laughing before breathing _“cute”_ right as the video cut off. Even in the comfort of his own home he felt ashamed for how red he knew his face was.

Stupid Yahaba and his stupid laugh.

(Whatever he had been doing this week, he really hoped it would help Yahaba laugh more, like he used to.)

By the time Friday came around, he was opening and closing his text thread with Yahaba, debating whether he should ask when the week alone would technically be over or just wait until he was inevitably summoned again. He didn't have very long to worry about it once work was over before Terushima came along, banging on his living room window from the fire escape, demanding attention and a place to stay for the night.

“You _have_ a place to stay,” Kyoutani pointed out with faux irritation.

“Why don't _you_ stay with Kuroo for a week and tell me how it is.”

Kyoutani's face scrunched at the thought. He had known Kuroo’s cousin most of his life. She had been bad enough on her own, but Kuroo Tetsurou himself was his own special brand of detestable.

Kyoutani connected the dots.

“You don't wanna be there cause he won't fuck you!” Terushima practically cackled at the look of absolute disgust on Kyoutani's face. “You really are shameless, aren't you.”

Terushima waved him off, plopping onto the couch and pulling Colonel into his lap.

“You've been to Miyagi, babe. Nothing fun happens there. I gotta make up for these last four months.”

“So you come to me. What about that guy you liked. Uh…that one with the face.”

“ _The business man_ ,” he corrected with a wicked grin. “He's one tough cookie. I'll crack him some way or another, but you're his fill in until then.”

“Wow, I feel so special,” Kyoutani deadpanned. “How that guy with the face can't see how wonderful a partner you'll be, I'll never know.”

There was a pillow chucked at his head causing Dai to growl from his bed in the corner.

“Soooooorry, Dai. But anyway, don't complain too much, Ken. You're too good in bed to be waiting on your little princess to kick the whole girlfriend thing. When's the last time you got laid, before last week, of course?”

Kyoutani ignored his over the top wink, plopping down on the other side of the couch. Idiots like Terushima were immune to basic intimidation tactics such as glaring, but Kyoutani did it out of habit regardless.

“Don't matter,” he grunted. “And the answer to your next question is simply _I didn't fucking feel like it,_ so shut the fuck up.”

Terushima tisked at him, pushing Colonel of his lap so that he could crawl into Kyoutani's. The florist kept his eyes locked on Terushima’s, ignoring the teasing way he dropped his hips. Kyoutani wasn't going to make this easy for him, but the challenge was all part of the fun with him.

He wouldn't be worrying about Yahaba tonight.

 

* * *

 

Saturday morning, Kyoutani was up early to walk the dogs and tend to the shop, certain that the pile of blankets that was Terushima would remain dead to the world until at least lunch time. Kiyoko was exactly on time to work, as per usual, and Kyoutani enjoyed the comfortable silence before Terushima came barreling down the stairs around one in the afternoon wearing the most obnoxious clothes he could find in Kyoutani's closet (they also happened to be appropriate only for summer). Kiyoko betrayed little emotion, but Kyoutani didn’t miss the twitch of her eye at the sight of him.

Regardless of Terushima, the rest of the day passed without incident; Kiyoko leaving at three and Terushima doing his best to assist with closing up. The two spent the rest of the evening watching TV and catching up a bit more.

Sometimes Terushima is a handful and Kyoutani has to keep from throwing him out, but after months of being apart he finds it refreshing to have him back. He’s still as annoying as he’s ever been, but the attention is nice and even his endless ramblings are tolerable.

Kyoutani loses track of time after dozing off on the couch. By the time he wakes up the sun is already setting, but the dogs need to be walked anyway so he shoves Terushima to the floor in lieu of shaking him awake. The idiot pulls on a jacket but doesn't even change out of shorts before they depart and Kyoutani feels cold just looking at him.

Dai and Colonel are both itching to run, but Terushima complains that it's too cold for a jog. Lazy bastard.

It's still a fairly nice evening for a stroll, cold as hell but Kyoutani has his red scarf wrapped tight around his neck and he could honestly say he feels content. Terushima is humming some shitty K-pop tune a few paces ahead, Colonel attempting (and failing) to drag him along faster. Dai has settled down, no doubt frustrated with the chilly night (Dai thrives in the summer, Colonel in the winter), and hops along obediently at Kyoutani's side, letting out worried whimpers whenever he spots another pedestrian.

Kyoutani's phone rings out from his pocket and he doesn't think much of it as he pulls it out, glancing casually at the caller ID.

He stops in his tracks when he sees a name he never thought would cross his lock screen. Terushima stops to look at him, eyebrow raised in question but he's ignored as Kyoutani accepts the call.

“Kyoutani!” Masae hisses his name from the other end, frantic as she attempts to stay quiet. There's shouting somewhere further from her, but he can't make out what they're saying. “Please come to the apartment. Shigeru could get hurt!”

She's sobbing and pleading with him, but it isn't long before he's sprinting off in the direction of Yahaba's apartment. Terushima calls for him, but he doesn't stop, confident Terushima will follow.

He's at the apartment complex in record time. He hears Terushima calling for him to stop as he sprints up the exterior stairwell, and by this time Dai understands that something urgent is happening, a growl coming from deep in his chest. They reach apartment 204 quick enough and shouting can be heard from the other side of the door. The door is unlocked and Kyoutani doesn't give a second thought to barging in, Dai’s growl growing louder once inside.

His eyes quickly find Yahaba. He's backed up against the far wall, a shorter but broader man gripping the front of his shirt forcefully to keep him there.

Kyoutani's grip on Dai’s leash loosens only slightly, but the pitbull is already tearing out of his grip and dashing at the stranger, his bark echoing in the room. The man has enough sense to let go of Yahaba and back away into the corner, Dai poised to attack.

Kyoutani's never been more relieved that he has to wear a muzzle outside the house.

Yahaba is looking between Kyoutani and Dai in disbelief. Kyoutani notices Masae tentatively peeking out from the bedroom down the hall, makeup smudged from crying. Terushima is behind him in the doorway moments later, completely out of breath with Colonel barking excitedly.

Kyoutani scowls at the stranger.

“What the fuck is going on?” he demands. In three strides he's in front of Yahaba, shoes ignored in favor of checking his friend, grabbing his jaw to inspect his face for cuts or bruises. “Are you okay, Shigeru?!”

Yahaba still seems shocked that Kyoutani is here, but he snaps out of it to grab his wrist.

“I'm _fine,_ Ken,” he assures him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Kyoutani's eyes meet Masae’s where she's still cowering from the hallway. He turns his glare back on the stranger, leaning closer to Yahaba.

“Not important. The fuck is this dude? Why's he layin’ his hands on you?”

The man narrows his eyes at him, but as the guy opens his mouth the speak, Dai snarls at him, recapturing his attention. Colonel is struggling in Terushima’s grip to join the commotion.

“Ken, meet Masae’s _other_ boyfriend.” Yahaba's smile is dangerous. “Well, only boyfriend as of a few hours ago.”

Kyoutani isn't sure where to direct his death glare at the point. He's not entirely surprised by the revelation, in fact he was anticipating it, but he's still caught off guard.

“Girl, if you're gonna cheat on your hot boyfriend, at least pick a dude who doesn't look…well, all I'm saying is he's kinda a step down, hun.”

All eyes turn to Terushima, standing in the doorway as to not crowd the living room.

“Who the hell are you?”

His eyes fall on Masae, giving her a judgmental one over.

“I'm unimpressed with your plan b, sweetie, that's who I am. A bad boy ain't a hot boy, get your discount Kentarou the fuck outta here.”

Kyoutani can't help but snort. Terushima is right, and after a year of Masae judging everything about the way he looks and acts, the irony isn't lost on Kyoutani. He steps slowly towards Dai, picking up the discarded leash and reigning him in. Dai realizes he's not going to be able to trap the man anymore and elects to stand in front of Yahaba instead, determined to protect.

Kyoutani steps forward.

“You aren't gonna find any of her shit in Yahaba's collar, so why don't you get what you came for and _piss off_.”

The guy looks like he wants to retort, but holds his tongue, at least smart enough to know he's outnumbered. Kyoutani watches them closely as they finish packing up what they can of Masae’s belongings. He hands Dai off to Yahaba before following the two down the stairs, watching them shove bags and boxes into the guy's car. He knows they'll have to come back for the rest of it at a later date.

Masae gives Kyoutani a pointed look before walking up to him, her gaze going no higher than his collar.

“You can go ahead and call me a slut, you don't have to worry about Shigeru being mad anymore.”

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. A year around one another and she still refused to understand anything about him.

“I won't do that.”

She lets out a shaky laugh and finally meets his eyes.

“Can you blame me? I mean...can you look me in the eye and tell me that you and Shigeru...have never…”

He takes a moment to school his expression into something he hopes is soft, less intimidating, at the least. He looks her directly in the eye.

“We never kissed and never fucked.”

There were many expressions that crossed her face; disbelief, anger, shock, regret. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“That asshole is getting impatient,” he noted, looking past her.

She hesitates before turning, and other than a pathetic middle finger from boyfriend b accompanied by a hastily muttered _“faggot”_  under his breath, they're gone without another word.

Back in the apartment Kyoutani finds Yahaba sitting on the floor, draping himself over a now calm Dai while Colonel sniffs around the apartment. Terushima is chatting away in an attempt to fill the silence, relief washing over him when he spots Kyoutani.

“I'll leave you to it, Ken.” He claps Kyoutani on the shoulder. “Kuroo’s gonna pick me up a few blocks down.”

Kyoutani looks between him and Yahaba, whose face he can't see, and gives Terushima a sort nod.

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

Terushima simply shakes his head with a smile.

“You need anything, let me know.” He looks back over his shoulder before he exits. “See you soon, Shigeru~”

Other than the soft padding of Colonel’s pacing, the apartment is eerily silent. Kyoutani waits several minutes, waiting for Yahaba to say or do something, but he sits there silently, absentmindedly patting Dai’s shoulder. Even without words, his unspoken apologies hang thick in the air.

Kyoutani hates when Yahaba apologizes.

He lets out a long sigh and watches Yahaba flinch at the sound.

Once again, he forgets about his shoes when he crosses the living room. He puts a hand under Yahaba's elbows as lifts, Yahaba obeying the motion, though he doesn't turn to look at him.

“Shigeru,” he prompts, the lack of response unsurprising. “Stay with me tonight.”

He hates how much the silence uneases him. He watches Yahaba's jaw clench around what should be words.

“I...I fucked up your night. I can't ask that of you.”

There's a waver in his voice, and Kyoutani wishes he would just cry already.

“You didn't ask shit. _I’m_ asking _you._ Will you come back with me, Shigeru?”

He gives his elbow a squeeze, and Yahaba turns slowly to look at him. His eyes are glassy with unshed tears, already pink and irritated. His eyes dart between Kyoutani’s as though he doesn’t believe the sincerity of his offer.

“You work tomorrow…”

“Maruyama can cover me.”

Yahaba’s shoulders finally slump, eyes falling to the floor, but he nods anyway.

The way home is as quiet as it can be with the noises of Saturday night in the city assaulting them from all sides. Yahaba insisted on taking one of the dogs, assuring Kyoutani in no convincing way that he was perfectly fine to deal with a hyperactive Australian shepherd. Kyoutani is thankful the run earlier tired Colonel out enough for him not to be a bother, but he still can't help glancing to the side to make sure Yahaba was still following along.

He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text.

 

> **Me**  [2017/02/25, 20:05]  
>  Cover me tomorrow. I'm staying home.
> 
> **Satan's Asshole** [20:06]  
>  You live at work you cock bag.

 

Yahaba still says nothing even as they enter the shop, just waits for Kyoutani to cross to the stairs. The florist leads them up to the apartment, ushering Yahaba to the couch as he removes the harnesses from the dogs. Yahaba takes a seat, but his back is stiff, his posture entirely too rigid.

Kyoutani looks him over but Yahaba still doesn't speak. He plops down next to him in a far more comfortable position, eyes never leaving his face.

“Talk about it?”

Yahaba’s smile is tense, but there all the same. He still refuses to look Kyoutani in the face, but at least speaks when he can finally find his voice.

“I thought about everything you said. But decided to actually listen to all of it, and I realized that...whatever I was doing with her. It wasn't what I wanted, just what seemed easiest.” His voice began to waver, eyes shining again with tears he was holding back. “Guess she gave up a while ago, huh?”

Yahaba took a deep breath. Kyoutani was impressed with his ability to hold back the tears, but the display still made him angry.

_Just fucking cry._

Kyoutani stands up to rummage around in the hallway closet. He pulls out an unopened videogame and tears the wrapping off carelessly. He's aware that Yahaba is watching him now, but he doesn't acknowledge him as he pops the game into the PlayStation 4 and returns to the couch. When the game begins installing, Yahaba turns to him with a raised eyebrow.

“You bought the game…? You didn't want to play Biohazard 7.”

Kyoutani scowls at him.

“You can't just say _Biohazard_ , you gotta say it in _The Voice_ ,” he scolds playfully before continuing in a deep, dramatic game voice. “ _Biohazard 7: Resident Evil_.”

Against his efforts, Yahaba huffs a laugh.

“Shut up. You said you didn't wanna play this one.”

Kyoutani pulls out his phone, opening the app for a nearby pizza place and idly putting in an order.

“Don't. But you wanted to, so I got it when it came out.” He spares him a glance from the corner of his eye as he hits ‘complete’ on his phone. “Was gonna wait for your birthday, but it's close enough.”

He turns fully to him, just in time to see the emotions crossing his face. Yahaba looks surprised, but it soon turns to something akin to rage, his lips quivering. But his face finally softens, and he looks at Kyoutani like he's never seen anything like him before, like he can't believe he's really there.

It does something dangerous to his heart.

He pushes Yahaba to lean against the armrest and lays against him to get comfortable, his back resting against Yahaba's chest. The game loads up fairly quickly. Kyoutani can't help grinning when Yahaba hits him for trying to select the easy difficulty, forcing him to at least play on normal.

Kyoutani puts on English subtitles so that he can annoy Yahaba by pointing out any translation mistakes he might find. Sometimes he makes something up just to fuck with him. The swift blows to his arms and chest are worth it to feel Yahaba's chest tremble against Kyoutani's back with silent laughter. He had hoped Yahaba would take the controls from the start (Kyoutani isn't a horror game kind of guy) but it quickly becomes apparent that he's on his own.

He rolls with it well enough, to start out, wandering around an overgrown courtyard and appreciating the graphics. He stumbles across a monument of gore and lets out an appreciative sign.

“This is how real men decorate.”

Yahaba bites his shoulder this time. Under any other circumstance it would turn him on, but this time he just chuckles before continuing with his meandering. He stops to individually mourn every dead bird along the path, giving them names and bird occupations and wishing them the best in bird heaven. After a drop off, the universal video game sign of no _turning back,_ he grumbles as he approaches a dilapidated western home.

“Is my wife really worth the trouble…?”

Yahaba actually giggles at that.

“Would you be more willing to charge in for a husband?”

“That's a stupid fucking question. Good dick on the line? Get the fuck outta my way, I got a man to save.”

Yahaba buries his face in Kyoutani's neck to stifle his giggle fit, shoulders shaking against him. The contact makes Kyoutani snort with him, neck ticklish against the touch.

The two ignore the game, too engrossed in their own laughter to care much about exploring spooky virtual houses. Yahaba's arms find themselves wrapped around Kyoutani's shoulders, squeezing him close and they stay like that for a while.

When they finally calm down, Yahaba takes a deep breath, nose still pressed into the crook of the florist’s neck. There's breath tickling Kyoutani's neck and he wants to turn around to assess the nature of the silence, but it's not long before Yahaba's grip tightens, his chest trembling several times before he goes still again.

He feels the tears before he hears the strangled wail that escapes Yahaba's mouth.

Kyoutani turns to him slowly, dropping the game controller unceremoniously onto the rug as he lifts his weight off the other. Yahaba voluntarily fills the new gap between them, his grip around Kyoutani's waist tight as he trembles in his arms. Neither of them speak even when Kyoutani is sure Yahaba’s nose is leaking into his shirt, but shirts can be washed so he doesn't care that much. He just continues petting Yahaba's hair, rubbing his thumb across his cheek in a way he hopes is soothing, peppering kisses across the crown of his head.

The first thing that comes out of Yahaba's mouth is a shaky request for tissues. As Kyoutani lays back to reach the end table furthest from Yahaba, he pulls him down against his chest and sets the tissue box beside them. Yahaba takes a moment to clear his nose before getting more comfortable on top of his companion, resting his head against Kyoutani's broad chest.

Yahaba finds himself breaking back down every time his involuntary sobbing dies down, but Kyoutani keeps rubbing his back gently, running his fingers through his hair, muttering comforting words onto the top of his head.

At some point Kyoutani's hand finds Yahaba's and laces their fingers together loosely. He rubs his thumb up and down Yahaba's pointer finger, tracing the knuckles.

He's not entirely sure how long it takes for Yahaba to stop crying, but the trembling stops not long after that.

He feels Yahaba's jaw clenching against his chest as he tries to form words. After several failed attempts, he finds his voice, though it's raspy and broken, but Kyoutani understands him anyway.

“D-did...did you think she was…?”

He doesn't seem able to finish the sentence.

“I thought about it, but not enough to really think she had.”

Yahaba makes a tiny noise that Kyoutani thinks was going to be a response before he lost his voice. He can feel Yahaba's jaw clenching against his chest again and thinks he knows what questions are racing through his friend's mind already.

“You didn't do anything to deserve that, Shigeru. If shit was so bad she needed someone else, then she should have ended it herself. There were plenty of opportunities in the last month alone.”

“Four months,” Yahaba mutters.

“Hmm?”

“She said they were dating for four months.”

Kyoutani blinks a few times, staring down at Yahaba's head. He doesn't know what he could possibly say or do, so he does the only thing he can think of and kisses Yahaba's hair again.

Yahaba’s shoulders shake again, but Kyoutani hears the tiny huff of laughter.

“Gonna kiss you till you fucking feel better,” he threatens.

He laughs at that.

“But I'm gross and covered in snot.”

His protest is weak. Kyoutani scoffs, grabbing Yahaba's face and forcing him to look up. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy from crying so hard, cheeks flushed from the overexertion, and his sandy hair is an absolute mess.

He looks terrible but Kyoutani still thinks he's the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

He's immediately disgusted by how far gone he is for this man.

Kyoutani leans down and sloppily kisses all over his face and head. Yahaba's caught off guard, but it doesn't take long before he's struggling to pull away, laughing breathlessly as he threatens Kyoutani. Yahaba eventually wedges his hands between their faces and fixes Kyoutani with a glare that lacks any real substance.

“Don't worry. I love you even if you're an ugly fucking cryer,” he mumbles through Yahaba’s hands.

Yahaba scoffs. His features soften and he's giving Kyoutani that look again, like he can't believe he's really there and isn't sure what to do with him. He settles for pressing their foreheads together, palms still blocking Kyoutani's mouth.

It's hard to resist licking his palm, but Kyoutani refrains anyway. He'll have to get him later.

When the doorbell rings, it startles Yahaba enough that he knocks their foreheads together. Kyoutani groans dramatically as he slides out from under him, then shoos the barking dogs away from the door. Once he makes it back with the pizza and grabs a random bottle of alcohol, Yahaba's already repositioned on the couch, waiting for him. He settles back against his chest, setting the pizza box down across his own thighs, as Yahaba wraps his arms around him, game controller in hand.

Kyoutani is glad he doesn't actually have to play, because as soon as Yahaba enters into the seemingly abandoned building he gets the chills. He's hopeful that since it's still during the day in game that nothing spooky will happen, but Yahaba opens a pot on the table and a cockroach crawls over the protagonist’s hand it's almost enough for Kyoutani to lose his appetite.

He shoves a slice of pizza in his mouth anyway.

The house only gets darker as Yahaba goes further in. Kyoutani provides commentary through his food; “turn the fuck around,” “ignore the hidden room in the wall,” “get the fuck outta the water before something bites your balls off,” “don't turn your back on the body,” “knock before you enter, you fucking heathen.”

By the time they find their wife in the basement, Kyoutani is cracking open the alcohol, taking swigs between chants of “nope, nope, fuck this.”

Yahaba reaches for the alcohol when their wife is screaming for some unseen person to leave her alone, not seeming to care that their dearly beloved is in danger.

“Shigeru, shouldn't you be saving our woman?”

He hands the bottle back with a shrug.

“She's survived three years without us, she'll survive two minutes.”

“Savage.”

The game continues on and Kyoutani is growing increasingly anxious. Their wife is crawling up from the darkness at the bottom of a flight of stairs to get to them and he demands that Yahaba kicks her the fuck back down and get a divorce _this instant,_ but apparently there's not a button for that.

He doesn't care if Yahaba can feel him flinching when their wife begins stabbing them. He wasn't made for the survival horror genre and Yahaba knows it. He hates the feeling of helplessness as forces beyond his control attempt to murder him dead.

After “killing” their wife and realizing the body's gone missing, Yahaba hands the controller off so he can pick the onions off of a pizza slice, feeding them to Kyoutani before nibbling on the pizza himself. He laughs at Kyoutani's complaining, shoving onions and slices of purukogi at him to shut him up.

Yahaba finally takes the controller back when their lovely wife cuts their arm off, laughing at Kyoutani's discomfort.

They continue on through the night and Kyoutani notes that Yahaba eats at least two slices of the pizza, though he downs half of the alcohol. He's impressed it doesn't affect his playing skills, save for a few amused giggles during highly inappropriate moments. He keeps his own commentary going, noting how unfortunate the condition of the house has gotten and listing his expert renovation ideas.

Yahaba dies one too many times on the exact same part of the game, signaling it's way past time for bed. Kyoutani has to wrestle the controller for him and sets the game system to sleep mode before picking Yahaba up bridal style to carry him to bed. He seems too stunned by the action to complain very much, but that's over quickly as he's dumped onto the bed.

“What're you sleeping in?”

Yahaba hums, rolling onto his stomach.

“Shirt.”

Kyoutani complies, throwing him a grey sweater and looking away as Yahaba strips down to his briefs. He's caught off guard when Yahaba hurls his pants at the back of his head, whipping around to glare at him. Yahaba just laughs, sitting on his ankles in the middle of Kyoutani's bed, his pale legs bare and the sweater hanging loosely off his torso. Kyoutani doesn't break eye contact while he strips down to his own boxer briefs, his frown deepening with every shed article of clothing.

Yahaba's smile widens despite his obvious exhaustion.

“Sorry, Ken, I didn't think I'd need any bills.”

“First show’s free.”

He crawls over Yahaba and the two settle in for the night. Yahaba seems hesitant, like he wants to be closer but isn't sure if it's appropriate, so Kyoutani pulls the blankets over them and drags him to his chest. It takes a moment, but Yahaba relaxes against him, nuzzling into his neck with a content sigh.

It doesn't take long for either of them to drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucking hate onions.
> 
> I'm hoping to finish this up by the middle of next month cause I'm already itching to write a longer and more complex arranged marriage/magical fantasy AU. We'll see.
> 
> HC that Kyoutani loved RE6 as much as I did and was upset upon realizing he wouldn't be able to play 7.


	7. Thanks, Jiyeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At one point an angry muscle headed asshole decided he could loom over Yachi in a threatening manner when he concluded the pale pink azaleas in the arrangement he ordered somehow weren't pale or pink enough, and Kyoutani booked it the entire way from Yahaba's apartment to tell the jerk to suck his balls.

The Sunday after Yahaba's breakup hadn't been particularly eventful; Kyoutani woke up to Yahaba cooking breakfast, still in nothing but briefs and his sweater (too big for his thinner frame, hanging off of one shoulder and bunched at the elbows). He spent too much time debating weather the scene was cute or sexy before deciding it could be both and filing the memory away for future use on a lonely night.

(Which happened to be that exact same night after Yahaba had finally returned home. He figured he'd earned a free pass after all the torture he's been put through over the last few weeks, especially knowing Yahaba had recently taken home his box of ‘ _toys_.’)

Overall, things seemed to go back to normal after that, save for Yahaba slipping into a mildly depressive state at least once a day, but Kyoutani would have been more worried if he had come away from Saturday night perfectly fine.

He didn't see Yahaba much Monday or Tuesday, but Kyoutani had been sure to drag him out Wednesday night to go drinking for his birthday at their favorite bar.

“Drinking at home's kinda pathetic, but drinking out is _mature_ ,” he'd told him.

Yahaba had only blew a raspberry at him and called him an idiot, but he let Kyoutani drag him inside anyway.

Terushima’s old friend Misaki Hana is working tonight and she greets them with a kind smile as they take their seats at the bar.

“Welcome back! It's been awhile since I've seen you here, Yahaba-kun.”

He gives her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, my ex really didn't like me coming here…”

She raises her eyebrow, curious as she leans her elbows on the counter.

“That pretty little girl with the wavy hair? I'm sorry to hear about that, but I'm curious what she didn't like, if you don't mind me asking?”

Kyoutani can't help but be curious, too. He knew Masae didn't want Yahaba going out to bars (especially with him), but he'd never gotten a straight answer as to why.

Yahaba glanced over at him before letting out a sigh.

“She, uh, didn't like you…”

Kyoutani can't help but snort, amused given the events of Saturday. Masae had been doing nothing but projecting her own infidelity into Yahaba the entire time.

If Kyoutani couldn't at least find some sick humor in it all, he'd be left with nothing but rage.

Yahaba buries his face in his hands as Misaki giggles at him.

“Well, she wouldn't be the first girl who didn't like me. Anyway, it's good to see you two together again. You're some of the least obnoxious people who come through this place.”

“You just like that Kyoutani keeps assholes in their place,” Yahaba teases, nudging Kyoutani's foot with his own. It begins a silent game of foot war.

Misaki grins at him, shrugging her shoulders.

“If he wants to be nice, I won't stop him.”

Somehow, the foot war ends with them knocking their knees together and not bothering to move them. They chat a bit with Misaki as she pours them drinks and fetches snacks, but she leaves them be when they're all set, warning them that it'll be hectic shortly due to some sports game Kyoutani will only be interested in with more alcohol.

The bar begins to fill up after only their first drink, and by the time Kyoutani wonders if he should snag a booth it's too late. He lets out a sigh as the stools on either side of them begin to fill up. The noise level steadily increases all around him.

Yahaba leans into him, drawing his attention.

“We can go if you want.”

Kyoutani shakes his head, flagging Misaki down for more drinks and ignoring Yahaba's worried look. He'll be fine, he just hadn't expected to be surrounded by so many people on a Wednesday night, but Tokyo was never really a city for relaxation.

When Yahaba doesn't back off, Kyoutani flicks his nose, grinning at the look of annoyance on his face.

“Fuck you.”

“You gotta take me to dinner first,” the blond teases, but their conversation is interrupted.

“I'm sorry, sir, but if you can't keep your hands to yourself I'll have to ask you to leave.”

They both turn their heads to see a random bar patron with Misaki by the wrist. She seems more irritated than fearful, but Kyoutani doesn't like what he sees regardless. He claps Yahaba on the thigh before slipping off his stool and stalking over to the man. He grabs him by the wrist, the same one holding Misaki, and grips so hard he yelps in pain. The man fixes Kyoutani with a glare, but it quickly turns to a look of alarm once he sees who he's dealing with; he doesn't need to stand up to see  the blond is much taller, and anyone with eyes can immediately tell that Kyoutani is broader with more muscle, his graphic tee hugging his well toned arms and chest.

“We got a problem, pal?”

The man is quick to shake his head, not yet drunk enough to make a mistake like fucking with Kyoutani. The man grumbles an apology and Misaki gives Kyoutani a nod and a smile before he returns to Yahaba's side.

He gives the man one last glare before he notices Yahaba grinning at him, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“The fuck you lookin' so pleased about?”

His growling only makes Yahaba's grin widen. The brunette rests his cheek in his palm, leaning against the counter.

“It's hot when you threaten random assholes.”

Yahaba presses their thighs back together and bites his bottom lip _just barely,_ but it's enough to light a spark in Kyoutani's insides. He's not thick enough to not realize they've been playfully flirting for months now, but suddenly it's like they're playing a completely different game; flirting with a cute guy who wouldn't cheat on his significant other was way different than flirting with the same cute guy who was now single.

Kyoutani couldn't do more than smirk at him before the seats on either side of them were suddenly occupied by two pretty young women, both looking barely over twenty. The one on Yahaba's left is fixing the brunette with a confident smile, batting her long eyelashes at him as his attention is drawn away from Kyoutani. The florist doesn't have to turn to know there's another girl smiling expectantly at him as well, but he does it away.

His girl could be described as much more cutesy than Yahaba's. At first glance she reminds him of Kimi, and that alone would be enough to make him uncomfortable, if he weren't already so, knowing exactly what these girls want with them.

He knows he's glaring at this girl, even if he doesn't mean to, but despite her petite frame and vulnerable face she doesn't seem the least bit put off by him.

_Goddamnit._

“Hi,” she greets cheerfully, her voice just as cute as her face. She even sounds like his friend Kimi and _fuck this is so weird._ “I saw you save the bartender. That was so cool of you!”

He can hear Yahaba's girl laying it on thick already, and he wonders if she's actually interested in him or if she just wanted to help her friend talk to the florist.

The woman in front of him is not put off in the least by his awkward silence. He would like to disappear into a void now, thanks.

“Uh...no big deal…” he grumbles.

“Is too! You must be pretty strong…” She gives his arms and chest a very obvious one over. He really doesn't want to snap and yell at some barely legal little woman, and she seems nice enough, _but when she puts her hand on his forearm like that she's cutting it real close._ “I'm Jiyeon, by the way.”

“That Korean?”

“Yup! Do you know any Korean?”

“Not really…friend's girlfriend is Korean. I know the word for asshole cause she yells it at me so much, but that's about it.”

Jiyeon giggles. He can't help but hate the sound.

“What's your name, then?”

“Kyoutani,” he answers automatically. He really wants to tell these girls to piss off, but he can hear Yahaba chatting away pleasantly from his other side and if Yahaba's having fun he'd rather not ruin it.

“Kyou-kun, I love your tattoos.” She gestures to the left side of her neck, sadly with the hand that's not still resting on his forearm. “Does the flower mean something?”

Flowers and tattoos are at least something he doesn't mind chatting about.

“They're bluebells,” he informs her as he turns his head to give her a better look. “Got it when my gran died.”

“Aww, that's cute! She liked flowers, then?”

He shrugs, but then nods immediately after once he realizes it's a more appropriate answer, but ends up scowling harder at his own awkwardness. At least she seems absolutely delighted by his lacking social skills. He doesn't even want Yahaba to call him cute, so he really hopes she keeps it to herself from here out.

He also hopes she drops this topic soon; he would rather not talk about Nomura-san in depth. Explaining that a random old woman took you in like her own grandchild because your father was a drunk piece of shit and your older brothers weren't much better isn't exactly polite conversation.

Luckily, Jiyeon doesn't actually seem interested in the topic of conversation. She bites her bottom lip and all he can think is that Yahaba looks a lot sexier when he does it.

She begins sliding her hand towards his elbow, and he's already got _‘I'm gay’_ ready on his tongue.

“So, are you here with anyone, Kyou-kun?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

It's a stupid question, he thinks. What she wants to know is if he's got a girlfriend, or maybe has one but is willing to forget about her for the night.

He'd just prefer she be more frank about it.

She giggles again, and at this point he's getting close to not caring if he ruins Yahaba's chance to score.

“You know what I mean...are you, like, here _with_ with someone?”

Before he can go ahead and drop the g bomb he feels a hand grab the inner thigh of his left leg. He looks over to Yahaba, eyes wide, and sees he's smiling at Jiyeon, that too fake smile that's dripping with a disgusting amount of artificial sweetness.

“Sorry, honey, he's _here_ here with _me_.”

Kyoutani turns back to Jiyeon in time to watch the pink spread across her face, noticeable even in the dim bar lighting. He can feel his own face burning and hopes Yahaba doesn't notice.

The hand on his thigh rubs further down between his legs and he's sure he must resemble a tomato by this point.

“Oh, um...I didn't…” She struggles to find the words under Yahaba's gaze.

“Isn't he a cutie?”

Kyoutani still has enough sense to shoot his friend a glare.

“Not cute,” he grumbles.

“You can be cute _and_ sexy, jackass. Right, ladies?”

The girls awkwardly agree, shooting each other glances.

“It's been nice chatting with you girls, but if you don't mind, I'd like to have him to myself from here on out.”

Yahaba being a possessive asshole really shouldn't be as hot as it is, but Kyoutani never claimed to have good taste.

The girls retreat back to a booth filled with their friends. The rest of the women are laughing at the turn of events.

“You didn't have to do that…”

Yahaba bumps their shoulders with more force than is probably necessary.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Ken.”

Kyoutani huffs, scowling at him. Yahaba only grins back.

“That girl, she was pretty. You didn't have to help me if you were interested in her…”

Yahaba's smile falters and in a matter of seconds he's frowning at Kyoutani like he's an idiot. The hand that was still idly rubbing his thigh pinches the muscle through his jeans.

_“Fuck, Shigeru!”_

“I'm not interested in her. I'm not interested in any of these girls.”

Kyoutani narrows his eyes at him.

“Kentarou, shut the fuck up.”

_“I didn't say anything!”_

“Shut up and get me another drink.”

Kyoutani grumbles something that would have been a retort if his mind were a bit clearer.

Yahaba removes his hand to down the rest of both of their drinks. When Kyoutani begins to protest, he shuts him up by batting his stupid eyelashes at the blond.

Fuck. When was the point where Yahaba went from _attractive but nothing special_ to _the most beautiful disaster Kyoutani's ever seen?_

He grumbles a few expletives at the brunette and they're downing another round of drinks in no time.

When Yahaba begins cheering for a baseball game is the point where Kyoutani knows it's time to get him home. It's only ten o'clock, so he'll be able to get enough sleep to get him through his job the next day.

Yahaba's not gone enough to need to be carried, but they hold hands on the way back just in case. The teacher's still a giggling mess, but he somehow managed to talk Kyoutani into giving him his jacket.

He also doesn't need to be helped into his apartment, but Kyoutani does it anyway.

“Clothes off,” he demands before Yahaba can fall face first into bed.

He protests the command, but begins to wiggle out of his pants anyway. Kyoutani leaves to fetch water and returns to find Yahaba's caught himself in his sweater attempting to pull it off. He makes it difficult for the blond to pull him free, but they manage and Kyoutani throws the article of clothing in a random direction, ignoring the laundry basket sitting right beside the bedroom door.

“Bed time,” he insists, pulling a night shirt from the dresser. Getting it on Yahaba is way easier than getting the sweater off. He guides him back to lay on the pillows, but is stopped when he tries to pull away. “Shigeru, go to bed.”

“Stay.”

At first he thinks it might just be the alcohol talking, but when he looks into Yahaba's eyes he can see that he's serious, desperately so.

He hates how willing he is to comply.

Kyoutani is stripped down to his boxer briefs in record time. He's barely in the bed when Yahaba latches onto him, burying his face in Kyoutani's shoulder.

“Thanks, Ken…”

Kyoutani grunts. He runs his fingers through Yahaba's fluffy hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. The brunette practically melts against his chest.

“Love you…”

Kyoutani snorts.

“Love you, too. Needy asshole.”

 

* * *

 

The Saturday following Yahaba's twenty seventh birthday comes entirely too soon, in Kyoutani's opinion. He spent the remainder of his week babysitting a hyperactive Kimi and beating Kiyoko’s stalker away with a broom (the man had gone several weeks without bothering her, but it looked like his last beating hadn't been painful enough). At one point an angry muscle headed asshole decided he could loom over Yachi in a threatening manner when he concluded the pale pink azaleas in the arrangement he ordered somehow weren't pale _or_ pink enough, and Kyoutani booked it the entire way from Yahaba's apartment to tell the jerk to suck his balls.

So by Saturday afternoon, Kyoutani was completely exhausted. He was at least grateful the birthday party was being hosted at Yahaba's apartment now that Masae wasn't around to complain about it.

He arrived early to help out, but crashed on Yahaba's bed after handing him a bouquet of red roses, ignoring the teacher's dramatic swooning  (Kyoutani could only roll his eyes, he really didn't give a single shit about stupid fucking flower language, he just knows Yahaba liked roses and Fumio would be safe around them).

He’s stroking the ragdoll cat absentmindedly when Watari pops his shaved head through the door of the bedroom.

“Yahaba wanted me to tell you to get your ugly mug the fuck up...that was a direct quote from him, not my words.”

Kyoutani’s only response is to flip him off and bury his head in the pillow, eliciting a snort from Watari.

“Hey, how are you holding up, man?”

“What do you mean?” It’s muffled, but he’s sure the other understood it just fine.

Watari settles down on the edge of the bed and scratches at Fumio’s ears when she nuzzles into him.

“Well, you know...you’ve kind of been taking care of Yahaba since last weekend, more so than me or Oikawa. And, like, I know...how you _feel_ about...are you okay?”

Kyoutani turns his head just enough to peer at him with one eye. Watari is doing his best to keep his eyes on the cat purring in his lap and the tension in his shoulders is obvious. It’s not often they have heart to heart talks, but Watari has always at least tried to be there for him if he thought Kyoutani was going through anything.

Kyoutani rolls onto his back, staring up at the white ceiling.

“I’m good. Just makin’ sure Yahaba doesn’t do somethin’ stupid. Like always.”

Watari hums his agreement.

“Think the two of you will be okay?”

Kyoutani sits up, popping his neck as he sets his feet on the carpet.

“Don't worry about it.”

Back in the living room Yahaba and Oikawa are having an animated discussion in whispers, and it almost seems like an argument by the way Yahaba looks ready to throw his senior out the window. Oikawa notices Kyoutani enter the room first. The smirk he shoots the florist is enough to set him on edge.

Yahaba is quick to smack the back of Oikawa's head. Iwaizumi lets out a laugh from the couch. Kyoutani is quick to join him, accepting the beer held it to him with a grunt of thanks.

They watch the tallest two move their bickering into the kitchen. Oikawa almost knocks the vase of roses over while waving his hands dramatically. It's a miracle that Yahaba hasn't kicked him out of the kitchen yet, but Kyoutani thinks it's probably to keep them separated.

“Sorry about Tooru. He wants what's best for Yahaba, but he's a nosey fuck.”

Kyoutani shrugs, downing his beer.

“Still pisses me the fuck off.”

“I know, same here. But I do feel the need to warn you that no matter how much he's got an ass kicking coming to him, I still love Tooru and am obligated to defend his honor.”

A grunt of acknowledgement is the only answer he receives.

After an hour the last few guests arrive, and as soon as Hanamaki steps through the door with the Wii everyone is antsy to get drunk and prove themselves at Mario Party.

After a glance from Watari, Kyoutani's on his feet to grab the package he hid in the hall closet. He stops Yahaba on a drink run, shoving the poorly wrapped bundle into his arms with a grunt.

“What's this…?” Yahaba's smirking at him, but he does his best to maintain his neutral scowl. “Flowers _and_ a package?”

“Shut it. Watari pitched in.”

“Not much, it was mostly Kyoutani,” Watari pipes up from his spot on the rug.

That catches everyone's attention, and Kyoutani knows he's going pink under everyone's gaze. If Yahaba weren't curious before, he definitely is now.

The brunette rips the brown paper away eagerly, stopping only when he sees the characters for his family name printed on leather. He looks up to Kyoutani with wide eyes and when he returns to the package he's finished unwrapping it in seconds.

Yahaba unfolds the leather jacket carefully, taking in the design with a disbelieving look; his family name is written out in white brush strokes over a background of dark pink camellias against black leather.

“Watari drew it.” Kyoutani shifts uncomfortably, wishing it weren't suddenly so quiet. “Now you don't gotta wear my old shit anymore.”

Yahaba looks back up at him and he really wishes he didn't feel so nervous, there was no need to be.

“You got me a riding jacket.”

Kyoutani growls at him, wishing he'd just put it away so the others would stop staring already.

Yahaba slips the jacket on. It's a relief to see it fits him properly, a little too well, even.

“How does it look?”

There's a few whistles from the rest of the room. Kyoutani finally scowls at them until they resume setting up their game. By the time he's turned back around, Yahaba's in his personal space grinning at him.

“So? What do you think?”

“Guess it looks okay on you…”

“Only okay?”

“Looks good…”

Yahaba leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Thank you, Kentarou.”

The rest of the night goes about as Kyoutani expected it would; Watari and Hanamaki fight for dominance on the game console after completely obliterating the rest of them. Once Oikawa is drunk enough, he and Hanamaki fire up Just Dance and miraculously manage not to break anything (aside from Oikawa's pride when he is completely slaughtered, Hanamaki seems to become some sort of godly being under the influence of alcohol). Yahaba is drunk enough to be a permanent fixture in Kyoutani's lap the remainder of the night, but manages to keep himself under control better than he had last year. Watari, Kunimi, and Kindaichi excuse themselves before midnight, both of the shorter boys doing their best to help Kindaichi down the outside stairs. Once Yahaba and Oikawa are passed out on the couch, Iwaizumi decides enough is enough. He apologizes to Kyoutani for the mess as he's carrying his sleeping boyfriend out of the apartment with Hanamaki on his heels.

It's late, but Kyoutani does his best to pick up after the party. The guests were considerate enough to mostly clean up after themselves, but he knows Yahaba tends to freak out if his apartment isn't at an adequate cleanliness level and he'd rather have him resting in the morning.

Once he's satisfied, he carries Yahaba into the bedroom. He doesn't bother trying to wake him before stripping him down to his briefs and tucking him into bed. He pulls off his own clothes and settles into the space next to Yahaba, pulling him closer to feel the warmth in the cold bed.

Yahaba stirs enough to swat at his shoulder, but quickly gives up, reluctantly letting Kyoutani spoon him.

Kyoutani grins against his neck. He gives Yahaba one last squeeze as he finally closes his eyes to rest after a long, exhausting day.

He's just slipping into sleep when his phone starts ringing behind him. He swats at it blindly, vaguely aware that he'd rather not wake Yahaba. It takes him a moment before he remembers that this ringtone is set to only one person in his contacts. He finally opens his eyes, grabbing the phone and answering quickly without bothering to double check the caller ID.

“Hey, mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted more than one update this week but I was busy and then I died a little, so oh well. Shit happens. Hopefully yall are dying a little less than I am. (Also I was playing the Animal Crossing phone game, 7853 5440 438)
> 
> I can say with confidence that we're finally only going up from here with the KyouHaba, no more bullshit. If there's any angst, it's probably not relationship drama. I honestly didn't realize that the first half of the story was kinda heavy...then again, I watched an action horror once and thought it was just a really dark slice of life anime, so.
> 
> (Also Yahaba invited Terushima, but he was busy, I'm sure he and Makki woulda killed it together though)


	8. Thanks, Junko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shigeru-kun was just telling me about the cocaine and hookers, hun, it's no big deal,” Junko says lightly, nibbling on a sandwich square. “Though I'm happy to hear you're settling down with such a sweet and handsome young man, I'm sure your wedding will be beautiful, as will your children.”
> 
> Yahaba pops up, grinning. “His ugly face will be a challenge, but I think my good looks will dominate the gene pool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut starts at “I had a dream about you” and ends around "Yahaba manages to stand after a moment"

The school year ends before Yahaba can even notice it approaching. His birthday was always a good indicator that their break was coming soon, but with all that had been happening, it hadn't really sunk in until the third week of March when his students practically raced out of their classroom, a few stopping to thank him and wish him a good break.

He was quick to collect his things, shoving papers and books into his messenger bag before rushing out the door in hopes of avoiding--

“Yahaba-kun!”

Yahaba stops in his tracks, nearly knocking into Fukuda Yukari, the science teacher that had been hitting on him all year. Her advances had only worsened over the past month, ever since his pictures of Masae had been removed from his desk. He'd replaced one with a picture of himself and Kyoutani on the blond’s couch, Dai between them with Colonel’s fluffy tail protruding from a corner of the photo.

 _“Wow, what an ugly dog,”_ she'd commented.

“He was pushed out of a moving truck before my friend took him in,” he'd told her, impressed that he could keep the bitterness out of his voice. She had looked away, shame apparent on her face for her rude remark, and Yahaba was still salty about it.

Yet here she was now, standing in front of him with her long red hair pulled tight into a bun. She smiled up at him shyly through her glasses, a glint in her eye that made him want to bolt.

“You're heading out already? Do you...do you have any big plans for your break…?”

She's fixing him with a determined look.

“Yes, actually, I'll be spending the entire break helping out my friend at his shop. The one with the pitbull.” He watches her barely conceal a wince, probably regretting ever saying anything about the dog. She hesitates, and he takes the moment to circle around her. “I'll tell you all about it when we get back, but Kyou really needs me, immediately, so I'll be off. Have a nice break!”

With that, he's rushing away, determined to get the fuck out of this place before anyone else stops him. He thinks the three weeks away will do some good, hopefully give Fukuda-san time to find a boyfriend. She was persistent even when Yahaba was in a committed long-term relationship, so he's sure “I've got someone waiting for me” will mean nothing to her, especially since he can't actually prove it. Nobody at his job can know about Kyoutani.

His family can't even know about him, and that probably hurts the most, but he already knows how his parents would react, and he'd rather continue to avoid them than give them more reasons to guilt trip him.

_“Yeah, well, I assumed you were ashamed of it being a gay thing.”_

He had thought a lot about what Watari had said at Oikawa's party. He had been right, Yahaba was terrified of anyone finding out if he ever did date a man, but it wasn't as though there was no reason to be.

Oikawa was the head editor for one of Japan's leading fashion magazines and there was a high number of gay men in the industry. Oikawa could be as openly gay as he wanted, especial with his position. Even if someone had a problem with him, his job seemed impossibly taxing and time consuming and Oikawa was the best of the best. Firing him would be a huge mistake.

Hanamaki owned his tattoo parlor and put it up purposefully in the queer part of town where nobody gave a shit how gay you were, which was perfect for him. He was his own boss and most of his clients were in the same boat as he was.

Kyoutani also owned his own shop, and even though he wasn't as showy with his sexuality, he could still hold his own. Most of his business came from Oikawa these days, anyway, so he could lose the majority of his clientele but still get by.

All three of them made their work environments safe places for their employees to be open, free to express themselves, be proud of who they were.

Yahaba's job was nothing like that. Sure, they were in a big city full of diversity, but it was still only twenty seventeen and gay marriage was still illegal in Japan. Nobody at Yahaba's job was openly gay, everyone did their best to appear as straight as possible.

He had no doubt that if the worse were to happen, Kyoutani and Oikawa wouldn't hesitate to help him, and he did enjoy lending them both a hand whenever he could, but teaching was what he always wanted to do, it was what he became estranged from his family to do.

He was terrified of losing that.

Lost in thought, he hadn't realized he'd headed straight for the flower shop. He looked into the windows to see Yachi cleaning counters, talking excitedly to Kiyoko as she tended to potted plants.

He really loved how open they could be at Kyoutani's shop.

Yahaba felt goosebumps run down his neck. He whipped his head to the side and froze at the woman he saw eyeing him. Normally he wouldn't pay attention to any random woman on the street, but he immediately recognizes her.

She has sort, wispy black hair that curls at the ends, only a few inches long, pale caramel skin with a large birthmark covering the right side of her face, and piercing amber eyes.

“You're one of Kentarou’s friends, aren't you?”

“You're definitely Kyou’s mom.”

Kyoutani Junko grins at him, the same lopsided grin that Kyoutani would have given him.

Kyoutani doesn't talk about his family often, but he talked enough about his mother for Yahaba to know they have a decent relationship.

After proper introductions are made Yahaba invites her in, leading her up to the empty apartment and holding back Dai, who doesn't remember her. Once the pitbull stops growling Yahaba sends both dogs off with a treat and puts on a pot for tea.

“You're very familiar with my son's home. You wouldn't be his boyfriend, by any chance?”

“Ah, no, not quite.”

“Alright...he doesn't tell me about any of that, anyway. I've never met any of his boyfriends, can you believe that?”

He hums thoughtfully, rummaging around in the fridge for sandwich ingredients.

“I just don't think he's ever been in a serious relationship.”

“So he's just fooling around? Not that there's shame in that, I just want to make sure he's doing well.”

Yahaba shakes his head as he slices bread.

“Not really, it just sounds like it never really works out in his favor. He's kind of difficult for some people to understand, you know?” She makes a sound of understanding as she watches him prepare their snack. “I don't think there's anything to worry about with him.”

“I know he's an adult now, he was just such a reckless child. I can't help but worry. My gay son with a face that looks like he wants to fight everyone and he's living in a big city. Not to mention the bike.”

Yahaba shakes his head, setting down a platter on the small kitchen table before taking the seat opposite her.

“He's actually really safe and boring. I think I've seen him get into one fight this past year?” He watches her examine his cooking closely, nerves eating away at him. He didn't _need_ to impress her, but he couldn't help wanting to. “And I don't think I've ever known anyone safer with a motorcycle. He wouldn't even take me out very much last year because I didn't have a jacket that fit me properly. Kinda pissed me off, actually…”

Junko laughs at that and it sounds so much like Kyoutani that he feels oddly relaxed around her. She's not like most people's mothers; she's open and expressive and eager to understand instead of judge.

They continue chatting about her son, Yahaba answering questions about how Kyoutani has been doing, assuring her that he's doing okay on his own. In turn, he asks her about his childhood and is absolutely delighted when she shows him pictures from her phone. Kyoutani really was a wild and angry child, so different than he is now but still very similar to how he used to be.

When Junko asks to exchange information, he only takes a moment to think about it before agreeing.

_He's gonna be pissed. Oh well._

“So, Shigeru-kun, what is it you do?”

“I'm a Japanese teacher at the high school near here. That's where I came from, actually.”

“Teaching can be difficult, but I think it's an honorable profession.”

She smiles at him, and it's just so different from anything his parents have ever told him. He can't help feeling jealous.

“Kyoutani-san--”

“Please call me Junko.”

“Junko-san, I'm trading my parents for you.”

Junko snorts at that, patting his hand where it rests on the table between them.

Before she can reply, they hear the creak of the stairs and then the door being thrown open.

“SHIGERU,” Kyoutani roars. Yahaba ducks his head so that he can't be seen over the dividing wall from the door, but Kyoutani is looming over the divide a moment later, scowling furiously at them. “You asshole! Whatever you've said, you're both _lying_.”

“Shigeru-kun was just telling me about the cocaine and hookers, hun, it's no big deal,” Junko says lightly, nibbling on a sandwich square. “Though I'm happy to hear you're settling down with such a sweet and handsome young man, I'm sure your wedding will be beautiful, as will your children.”

Yahaba pops up, grinning.

“His ugly face will be a challenge, but I think my good looks will dominate the gene pool.”

_“Shigeru, you fucking cock sucker.”_

“Kentarou, please.” His mother clutches her chest in faux shock. “I don't need to know what you two do in private.”

Kyoutani's entire face turns red and Yahaba can see he's blushing all the way down his neck.

“Why the fuck are you both here in _my_ apartment? You didn't tell me you arrived!”

“Well, I was going to, but then Shigeru-kun showed up and I recognized him from some of your pictures. I was surprised that he had a key, and he's very comfortable in your home...he says you're not dating, but I'm not sure if I believe that.”

Kyoutani groans dramatically.

_“We're not dating.”_

Junko hums before nodding, accepting his response without any prodding.

“I'll date you for your mom, Ken.”

Kyoutani's response is to punch him on the shoulder, just hard enough to hurt for a few minutes.

“Kentarou, stop beating nice young men up and greet your mother properly.”

Junko finally stands up, leaning over the divide. Kyoutani meets her halfway, grumbling a greeting and giving her a peck on the mouth. Yahaba shoots up from his own seat, bracing his arms on the low wall and leaning forward.

“Where's my greeting?” he jokes, grin mischievous.

Kyoutani stares at him for a moment thinking, and the last thing that he thinks will happen is Kyoutani actually leaning in and giving him a quick peck on the mouth.

He grins like an idiot when it happens. Kyoutani's back to blushing and scowling while his mother rolls her eyes at their bullshit.

Yahaba excuses himself soon after to give them some alone time. He tries apologizing on his way out for letting Junko into the apartment, but Kyoutani tells him to shut up and text him when he gets home.

Kyoutani's mother stays with him for a week to look for apartments and to readjust to the big city; their family originated in Tokyo and moved to Miyagi when Kyoutani was in middle school, but when they moved back to the city in the middle of his first year of high school, his mother stayed in the country.

“I was tired of his father,” Junko explained one day when they were out to lunch, once Kyoutani had stepped away. “Raising four boys was difficult, and I just gave up. Only Kentarou and Kakuji were still in school, so I thought it'd be alright. It was selfish of me to leave them with their father. I feel like Kentarou forgave me too easily.”

“For such an asshole, he's a big softie.”

“You know, someone who wasn't familiar with you two would think you hated each other.” He shrugs, grinning, and she chuckles at him. “It's nice to see him so close to someone, though. Thank you for taking care of him for me.”

Yahaba hummed, resting his chin on his folded hands.

“I think he's been taking care of me, really.”

Kyoutani glares at them from the other side of the restaurant. They both smile and wave, just to piss him off more.

By the end of the week Junko happily returns to Miyagi to finish preparing for her move.

Yahaba finds himself sprawled out on Kyoutani's couch that Saturday night, scrolling through apartments on his own.

“Oi.”

“What?”

“Why'd you seem so interested in apartment hunting? Never got a chance to ask…”

Yahaba hums, sitting up so that Kyoutani can sit against the armrest. Once he's settled, Yahaba leans back into him, wiggling around to get adjusted.

“Well, my lease is up in a few weeks. I don't think I want to stay where I'm at, so…”

“Oh?” Kyoutani pulls him closer, resting his chin on Yahaba's shoulder. “Know what you're gonna do?”

“Ugh, no…the lease is up in five weeks and I just have no fucking idea…”

Kyoutani shifts behind him.

“Uh...well…”

He doesn't finish his sentence after a few moments, so Yahaba turns around. He's surprised to see Kyoutani looking uneasy.

“What is it?”

“I was kinda thinking lately...why don't you just live here?”

Kyoutani is blushing down to the collar of his shirt again and making a point of staring holes into the carpet. Yahaba feels a fluttering in his stomach at the idea. He immediately thinks of everything that could go wrong, any argument they could have, every way in which they could clash. But then he thinks of how they spend so much time together anyway, how he's been keeping him company at night lately, how they eat dinner together more often than not.

Yahaba's silent contemplation only seems to make Kyoutani more nervous about his suggestion.

“I mean, it wouldn't be a big deal to clean that shit outta the spare room, it's just stuff of gran’s I didn't wanna deal with--”

“Let's do it.”

Kyoutani stops talking, eyes wide as he finally meets Yahaba's gaze, surprise written across his face as though he were sure he'd be turned down.

“Unless you changed your mind?” Yahaba teases, pushing back into Kyoutani with a grin until there's no room between them. “How long have you thought about this, Kentarou~?”

Kyoutani turns away, eyebrows drawn together.

“Don't fucking mock me.”

“But you're so cute when you're embarrassed~”

_“Not cute.”_

Yahaba laughs, leaning his head back to rest it against Kyoutani's shoulder.

“Shut up, you're super cute.”

“ _You're_ cute,” he grumbles, trying to turn his head further away.

“Hmm,” Yahaba hums. He stares at Kyoutani's exposed neck, looking between it and the red of his cheeks. He presses a light kiss just below his ear, lingering there. “Just cute?”

Kyoutani makes a strangled noise, the muscles in his entire body tensing up. Yahaba wiggles against him just to see how he'll react. He grips at Yahaba's hips and finally turns back to look at him.

“Shigeru.”

There are the butterflies in his stomach again, accompanied by the feeling of his skin slowly catching fire. Kyoutani's amber eyes are almost black and his entire expression is dark.

He doesn't want to be fucked around with again.

“Kentarou, tell me I'm pretty.”

A scoff is the only response he receives.

Yahaba narrows his eyes, but Kyoutani is glaring back at him, still sure that he's being played with.

The brunette stands, pulling Kyoutani to sit properly before straddling his lap, staring down at him with a smirk. Kyoutani fidgets underneath of him, unsure of the situation, hands hovering over Yahaba's thighs like he's not sure if touching is permitted.

“Ken-ta-rou~” Yahaba teases, resting his hands on the back of Kyoutani's neck and bouncing a bit in his lap. “Do you think I'm pretty?”

Teasing the man under him feels like the only way to keep his own nerves in check. Kyoutani finally settles his hands on Yahaba's thighs, gripping just enough to keep him from moving. He's worried that he might be taking too big of a risk too soon.

But then the blond gives a short nod in response to the question.

“I want to hear you, Ken.”

Kyoutani squirms under him, back to avoiding eye contact in favor of staring intently at Yahaba's collarbones, his face still scrunched up and beet red. He can see his jaw tensing around the words he can't quite say.

Kyoutani Kentarou, the hot headed brick wall of a man who can quiet a room with a single scowl, is nervous beneath him.

_Shit, I really hope this is turning him on as much as it is me._

He's not prepared for Kyoutani to look him dead in the eyes like a predator ready to pounce.

“ _Shigeru_.” His voice is low and gravely, barely above a whisper but it rings loud and clear against the silence of the apartment. His hands run up Yahaba's thighs, large palms radiating heat through the fabric, and doesn't stop until he's squeezing his rear, pulling him closer. “You're beautiful.”

Yahaba can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears--can feel it, too--and wonders if Kyoutani is any better off.

There's another squeeze to his backside, reminding him that he could be experiencing instead of wondering.

Yahaba leans in, eyes barely open, watching Kyoutani hesitate before following suit. His lips are warm and rough, unsurprisingly gentle, and he finds himself smiling into the kiss. Kyoutani grunts at him, biting at his bottom lip with a huff. Yahaba responds by opening his mouth, Kyoutani following the action, and letting their tongues meet in the middle.

Kyoutani tastes like tea and honey and makes the most delicious whining sounds when Yahaba sucks his tongue. There's a brief struggle for dominance as they get used to how the other feels, before they finally settle on a leisurely pace, lips and tongues sliding together haphazardly.

Tentatively Kyoutani slides his hands under Yahaba's shirt as though he's never touched his bare back before.

_Guess it is in a different context now._

His hands feel like hell fire against his already burning back, and Yahaba vaguely wonders how he hasn't melted under his touch yet.

Yahaba let's his own hands wander, dropping them from Kyoutani's shoulders to feel his way up underneath his t shirt. Sure, he's had his hands on Kyoutani numerous times before, but he's never really gotten to _feel_ him. He runs his hands up the smooth expanse of skin going up to his belly button, sliding his hands apart to feel the well defined dips of Kyoutani's hips.

 _Better than my dream,_ he thinks, but stops dead at the memory.

Kyoutani pulls away slightly from where Yahaba's suddenly stopped kissing him.

“What's wrong…?” His eyebrows are drawn back together, eyes searching for any sign that he's done something wrong, that Yahaba regrets whatever they're doing.

“I had a dream about you,” he practical purrs as he leans in to whisper against Kyoutani's ear. “Can I show you what it was about?”

Kyoutani lets out a shaky breath. As soon as he's nodded, Yahaba rolls their hips together, encouraged by the hardening bulge in Kyoutani's jeans.

Yahaba kisses down his neck, sucking his collarbone under the collar of his shirt and palming at Kyoutani's crotch through the fabric. He doesn't linger for very long, too eager to see his fantasy through in the waking world, and enthusiastically crawls off Kyoutani's lap to kneel on the floor in front of him. He lifts Kyoutani's shirt to kiss at his abdomen, trailing his tongue through the dips between the muscles, nipping every so often and enjoying the way the blond’s breathing picks up in anticipation.

Once Yahaba in satisfied, he unbuttons and unzips Kyoutani with surprisingly steady hands for how nervous he is. It's been at least four years, maybe more, since he's had a cock in his mouth, and even though he knows Kyoutani wouldn't make fun of him he wants this to be enjoyable for both of them.

Kyoutani is more than eager to lift his hips for Yahaba to pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees, his erection springing free. Yahaba looks him over, feeling his own dick twitch in excitement at seeing Kyoutani exposed and waiting for him.

Yahaba leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the cherry blossom branch tattooed low on his left hip. He wraps one hand around the base of Kyoutani's cock, giving him a few light strokes, soaking in the way his breath hitches at the touch. He looks up into Kyoutani's smouldering eyes, batting his eyelashes as he presses kisses along the side of the shaft, making his way up. Before he gets to the tip he dips back down to run his tongue up the underside, from the balls to the tip, licking up the precome that's been forming there.

Kyoutani's breath hitches again and Yahaba can feel the muscles tensing in his thighs with his free hand. He takes the tip in his mouth, running his tongue around it, teasing the slit and sucking gently.

_“Shigeru.”_

It's probably the weakest warning he's ever heard come from the blond, but he takes pity on him anyway and slowly takes him in halfway, bringing his hand up to meet his mouth.

Kyoutani throws his head back, hissing a curse. Yahaba waits until his eyes are back on him before he begins bobbing, slowly to start, making sure to only take him in halfway. He hollows his cheeks, pulling back to the tip with one long suck that leaves his tongue feeling tingly. He teases the tip again before taking in a breath through his nose and begins bobbing again at an increased speed.

Kyoutani doesn't expect him to remove his hand and take him all the way to the base, if the strangled groan is any indication. Yahaba pulls back slowly, again with a suck, and sinks back down all the way, encouraged by the string of curses leaving Kyoutani's lips.

His own pants are becoming more than uncomfortable, and he doesn't think twice about undoing his jeans and pulling himself free with his unoccupied hand. He strokes himself, moaning around Kyoutani's dick, and can feel it twitching at the back of his throat.

It's Kyoutani's turn to moan, long and deep, running straight down Yahaba's spine until it's all he wants to hear anymore.

Yahaba goes back to work, alternating between taking him halfway and taking him to the base, hand going between rubbing his inner thigh and gently squeezing his balls.

He's overly eager in stroking his own member and ends up having to grip himself at the base so he's not coming embarrassingly early. It's not entirely pleasant, and he'd love to have his release, and he ends up practically whining with Kyoutani pressed to the back of his throat.

 _“Fucking shit, Shigeru, fuck,”_ is the most coherent thing Kyoutani's managed to say in the past several minutes. His grip on Yahaba's hair tightens, but Yahaba isn't quite sure when he grabbed his hair to begin with. “Not gonna last...like this…”

Yahaba hums, pulling off with a pop to lick back down the side of his cock, ignoring the curses and protests. He sucks one of his balls into his mouth, fondling his own while he's at it. Kyoutani bites his lip to keep quiet, rolling his head back against the couch. Yahaba moves to the other side, doing the same thing, but gently rubbing at his perineum.

 _“Fuck you,”_ Kyoutani hisses, barely keeping from bucking.

“Next time,” Yahaba promises, voice hoarse from sucking. He doesn't bother teasing anymore, simply takes Kyoutani all the way back in, sucking mercilessly as he bobs at a quickened pace.

He's got both of his hands on himself now, one stroking while the other waits to catch his own load, not wanting to come on the carpet.

Kyoutani is an incoherent mess above him, barely able to catch his breath with the way Yahaba's going. It doesn't take much before Yahaba's coming in his own hand, throat tightening around Kyoutani's cock as he moans through his own orgasm.

“Shit, Shigeru, I'm gonna…”

Kyoutani tries to pull him back by the hair, but Yahaba resists, taking him in all the way, careful not to breathe in when he feels Kyoutani's cock twitching in his mouth before releasing his load down his throat. Yahaba works him through his orgasm with his mouth and the hand not covered in semen, swallowing it down almost expertly.

He pulls off of Kyoutani's softening dick, wiping the drool off his mouth with his relatively clean hand. Kyoutani's covering his face with his hands as he tries to get his breathing back to normal.

Yahaba manages to stand after a moment and hobbles to the bathroom to clean himself up. Once he's cleaned off and zipped back up, he stares at himself in the mirror, hair a tangled mess from Kyoutani's yanking, lips swollen from kissing and sucking, cheeks flushing in nervous anticipation.

He doesn't really remember the last time he had that much fun having sex.

When he finally makes it back to the living room, Kyoutani's sprawled out across the couch in nothing but his boxer briefs with the most blissed-out expression Yahaba's ever seen on him.

Yahaba figures it's a good idea and removes his own pants before joining him. Kyoutani pulls him down, kissing him lazily, but with intent.

Kyoutani sighs against his mouth.

When Yahaba opens his eyes, Kyoutani is looking at him with such fondness it makes his heart ache. He doesn't remember when he fell in love with Kyoutani, but when he looks at him like this, he thinks maybe he's thinking something similar.

“Something to say, Ken?”

“Let's go out together tomorrow.”

Yahaba smiles, burying his head in Kyoutani's shoulder.

“I can't wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody ever mentions the tingly feeling you get in your mouth after giving a blowjob. Also, I don't think I can ever look my beta in the face ever again. Having your straight friend read your gay smut is so fucking embarrassing, holy shit.
> 
> EDIT: I finally posted a ref for [Kyou's tattoos](http://chibsblog.tumblr.com/post/168017878854/my-original-ref-for-the-story-im-writing-but), just the front though for now.


	9. Thanks, Kyoutani, it's Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His chest begins to tighten at the thought that everyone’s eyes must be on them, and the fact that nobody seems to be paying any attention to them doesn’t do anything to slow his heart rate. Being openly affectionate in the dim light of a familiar bar with the aide of alcohol was nothing compared to a wide open public space packed with people in the middle of the day while sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got 35k words of this fic written during November, I never would have imagined I'd actually write this much of a story. Kudos and comments really do encourage me. Also, the end scene turns quickly into smut.

The next morning Yahaba finds himself curled up alone in Kyoutani’s bed, slowly beginning to roast under the covers. He can hear the sink running and several appliances beeping all at once and the smell of breakfast slowly begins to waft into the room. He whines from his cocoon, but for the longest time the Australian shepherd is the only one to answer his call, bounding into the bedroom and pouncing into the pile of blankets. Colonel settles down, curling up next to him on the bed.

Yahaba can smell the coffee and sausage and whines again from where he’s laying. He hears Kyoutani’s heavy footsteps crossing the hardwood floors of the apartment and he’s in the doorway a moment later, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

_“Keeeeeeeeen.”_

“G’mornin’ princess. Finally ready to get up?”

“Where’s my breakfast in bed?” Yahaba pouts, his head barely sticking out of the covers. “I deserve to be pampered.”

Kyoutani snorts.

“We’re eating in the living room like adults. I made you breakfast, feel lucky.”

Yahaba buries his face into the pillow, whining unintelligibly. Kyoutani chuckles but walks to the edge of the bed, tugging gently at the covers.

“C’mere,” he orders. Yahaba complies, wrapping his arms around Kyoutani’s neck before he’s being lifted off the bed with ease. “You’re lucky I can do this…”

And he does feel lucky; Yahaba has always been taller than most, which makes him heavy and awkward to carry. But Kyoutani is taller than most as well (even if Yahaba still has a few inches on him) with broad shoulders and a well-kept body, making him one of the few people Yahaba knows who could actually carry him around.

The butterflies in Yahaba’s stomach have seemed to take up residence there.

Kyoutani plops down on the couch, Yahaba in his lap still wrapped in blankets. Kyoutani looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s with that face? You look happy about somethin’.”

Kyoutani’s pout puts a smile on the brunette’s face. He leans in, cupping Kyoutani’s face in his hands and kissing him gently.

“I am happy~” He kisses him again, more forcefully, encouraged by the blond’s flushed face. It’s so easy to make him blush and Yahaba was one of the few people who actually got to see him embarrassed like this. “This gorgeous guy made me breakfast and carried me away in his big, strong arms.”

Kyoutani averts his eyes, turning his head to kiss at Yahaba’s palm.

“He sounds like a keeper. I’m jealous.”

“You should be. I think I’m gonna marry him, law be damned.”

Kyoutani grins, nipping at his palm.

“Shut up and eat your fucking breakfast.”

After blowing a raspberry against Kyoutani’s cheek, he does just that. Yahaba turns his attention to the coffee table and is shocked at the spread; there’s a bowl of rice and natto with a fried egg on top, miso soup with tofu, toast with jam, and a bowl of fruit. He’s also set the coffee pot out with everything Yahaba needs to fix his own coffee (Kyoutani tries, but can never seem to get it right).

Yahaba hops up, ignoring Kyoutani’s protests to fetch his phone from the bedroom. He settles back down in the florist’s lap, taking several pictures for Instagram to edit while he nibbles on the toast. Kyoutani has buried his face in Yahaba’s shoulder, but it does nothing to hide his embarrassed blush.

_He’s too big to be this cute._

“There. I tagged you on Instagram.”

“Goddamnit.” Almost immediately Kyoutani’s phone begins lighting up and buzzing with notifications from the coffee table. _“Goddamnit.”_

Yahaba stifles a laugh, finally turning his attention to his rice bowl. Kyoutani puts on a random episode of Voltron, but his Netflix region is set to America so Yahaba can’t understand what they’re saying. He doesn’t really care and spends their breakfast chatting and stealing kisses. Oikawa tries calling at some point, no doubt to hound him about his recent photo uploads, but he sends him straight to voicemail and decides to set his phone on silent and deal with his meddling later.

Kyoutani doesn’t mention what he plans for them to do today, but Yahaba is content with laying on the couch together watching TV. Eventually Yahaba is dragged off the couch to take the dogs on a late jog, Maruyama glaring at them as they leave the shop. At the end of it, Kyoutani stops them in front of Yahaba’s apartment.

“Make sure you dress warm  with comfortable shoes, and bring your new jacket.”

Yahaba instantly perks up at the thought of going out on the motorcycle. His excitement must show because Kyoutani is chuckling as he takes off with the dogs, heading back in the direction of the shop. Yahaba has been given an hour to get ready, and now that he has a time limit the tranquility of the morning is replaced with a nervous feeling in his chest.

He greets Fumio, petting and praising her for a few minutes before setting out a plate of wet food to keep her occupied. Once out of yesterday’s clothes, he showers quickly, nervous about his time limit. The logical part of him knows that Kyoutani will wait as long as it takes for him to get ready, but even without his anxiety telling him to hurry up he’s still more than eager to start their first date.

After toweling off he digs through his closet and dresser for a suitable outfit. There are clothes lining his entire bed by the time he settles on a pair of dark black jeans, a pale salmon button up, and light gray sweater.

He’s got twenty minutes left to blowdry and style his hair though he’s fully aware that it’ll have to be redone once they get to wherever they’re going.

He double checks the contents of his pockets before slipping on his shoes and exiting the apartment. Kyoutani is already waiting for him in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with his hands in his pockets. Yahaba notices that he elected to wear his nice jeans, a newer pair without any holes, and the obvious effort put forth makes him smile.

“What?” Kyoutani challenges with a scowl, but reaches out to make sure Yahaba’s buttons are properly done at the cuffs and neck of the jacket. “Also...wanna tell me why my mom called to congratulate me on ‘finally snagging the handsome school teacher’?” Yahaba only grins at him. “Why is my mom following your private Instagram, Shigeru?”

“Because she’s cool like that?”

“Shut up, she’s so not. Why’d you gotta call me your man where everyone can see...Oikawa and Hanamaki won’t stop fucking spamming me…”

“Should I...not say things like that?” Yahaba pouts but it’s not entirely for show. They never actually discussed the nature of their relationship, and he didn’t want to make any assumptions that would upset Kyoutani.

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Call me whatever you want…”

Yahaba sighs internally, relief washing over him. He wants to lean in and kiss him, but he doesn’t want to do anything that will give his neighbors gossip fuel. He looks past Kyoutani and notices a basket and blankets tied down to the storage rack behind the passenger seat.

“Think you can handle an hour ride?”

“Where are we going that’s an hour away? Is that a picnic basket?”

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. Kyoutani ignores his questions, shoving a helmet at his chest before pulling his own on and they set off soon after. It’s been months since they last rode together, but Yahaba has no trouble remembering how to be a good passenger, leaning with Kyoutani on the turns and keeping his arms firmly around the waist in front of him.

The end of March is still a bit chilly, but it feels immensely more pleasant than the bitter cold of winter. The leather jacket definitely keeps Yahaba’s top warm, and even though the heat from Kyoutani is only reaching where he’s got his inner thighs pressed against him, it’s still a pleasant feeling overall. He hums in contentment, squeezing Kyoutani with his entire body while they’re waiting at a stop light. Through the helmet he can smell the man’s cologne and the faint scent of cigarette smoke, pleasant only in its familiarity.

Yahaba is so excited to be on a long ride that the ache in his hips and rear don’t come close to bothering him. Being in a car is one thing, but riding on a motorcycle without any protective windows or framework makes the entire experience completely different. It’s a rush to be so exposed and vulnerable to other drivers, and he would probably be terrified if he were with anyone else, but he puts all of his faith in Kyoutani to do whatever he needs to to keep them safe.

The ride isn’t more than forty five minutes before they’re pulling off the expressway. Yahaba vaguely recognizes where they are and that they’re headed towards a park, though it’s been so long since he last came this way that he doesn’t remember which until signs begin popping up for Showa Kinen Park. It all comes together; Kyoutani has brought him to picnic under the blooming cherry blossoms and it’s so cheesy and romantic that Yahaba can’t help but squeeze Kyoutani’s waist tighter.

Kyoutani parks and pays their entry fee, but once they’re actually in the crowd of families and couples who have also come to see the flowers blooming, he seems a bit lost and frustrated with the large volume of people.

Yahaba glances around looking closely at the people surrounding them; they all seem too caught up in their own business to pay attention to anything but their own parties and the blooming trees. Yahaba turns his attention back to Kyoutani, still glaring as he tries to form a plan of action in his head.

Yahaba tentatively slides his palm into Kyoutani’s free hand. The blond laces their fingers together as though they’ve done this a million times, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before setting off through the crowd. He slows down once they’re out of the clutter of the main gates, but Yahaba just feels more exposed. His chest begins to tighten at the thought that everyone’s eyes must be on them, and the fact that nobody seems to be paying any attention to them doesn’t do anything to slow his heart rate. Being openly affectionate in the dim light of a familiar bar with the aide of alcohol was nothing compared to a wide open public space packed with people in the middle of the day while sober.

He ends up having to unzip the front of his jacket from how hot he’s suddenly feeling.

He almost bumps into Kyoutani when he stops to look Yahaba over. The brunette can tell that Kyoutani knows something is wrong, and he tenses up in preparation for denying any vocalized observations.

Kyoutani tugs Yahaba’s hand, nodding his head towards the river they’re crossing over. He had been so caught up thinking about others judging them that he hadn’t even noticed the cherry blossom trees surrounding them let alone the river.

“Here’s your stupid flowers.”

The blossoms have only just bloomed but he can see where some of the flowers have been knocked from their trees early and drift lazily down the river. He allows Kyoutani to lead them further along, keeping his eyes on the trees and trusting Kyoutani to get them to wherever they’re going. They keep on following the trail, even to more empty areas where the park’s flowers haven’t bloomed yet. There’s a warm, calloused thumb rubbing along his knuckles in a soothing pattern.

Yahaba glances down at his phone and is surprised to see they’ve been walking around for half an hour. He grabs Kyoutani’s forearm with his free hand, leaning into him.

“Are you hungry?”

It’s a pointless question; Kyoutani’s been waning off of cigarettes, and instead of being more irritated than usual he's been constantly snacking the entire time. He pulls Yahaba along again.

Eventually the trail brings them around to a large field littered with cherry blossom trees. There are dozens of people picnicking around the field, but they head past everyone else until they find a fairly empty corner away from the noise of the crowds.

Yahaba looks back at his phone; there are three missed calls and seventeen texts from Oikawa alone.

“Ugh...Oikawa won’t stop messaging me.”

“Your own fault.”

Yahaba sticks out his tongue.

“I’m gonna give him a call real quick. You better be set up by the time I get back.”

Kyoutani grumbles something at him, but sets to work setting out the blanket anyway. Yahaba walks out of earshot and clicks the call button. Oikawa picks up almost immediately.

“Shige-chan!” he coos. “Is there something you’d like to tell me about you and a certain KyouKen-chan?”

Yahaba rubs his temples with a groan.

“What’s there to tell? We had breakfast.”

“What’s there to tell?! Aren't you two together now?”

“Well, we hooked up last night but I’m not sure if we actually started dating…?”

Oikawa scoffs.

“What do you mean you aren’t sure if you’re dating? Either you are or you aren’t, it’s not that complicated.”

“We’re out right now, but we haven’t really talked about it, I guess?”

The line goes quiet for a long moment before he hears a long, dramatic groan from the other end.

 _“Shigeru,_ what the hell? That’s kind of something you need to find out.”

“We’ll talk when we talk. I’m not worried about it.”

“Not worried about it?! What if he goes off with someone else while you’re sitting around _not worrying about it?_ ”

“ _Tooru_.” Yahaba takes a deep breath. Sometimes, it was really hard not to just snap at his senior. “Kyou’s not that kind of person and I don’t appreciate you talking about him like that. I’m going to go back to my date and you’re going to mind your own business. Then, when I’m not busy, you and I can talk about this some more as long as you watch your fucking mouth. _Goodbye_.”

He jabs the end call button with more force than is necessary. Almost immediately his phone is lighting up with another call, and he’s about to scream when he notices a different name on the caller ID. He’s quick to answer.

“Yahaba Shigeru speaking.”

“Hello Yahaba-san, I’m calling from Dr. Tsukuda’s office. Do you have a moment to speak about your Thursday appointment?”

“Um, yes, I do. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes. The doctor just has some family issues that will keep her out of the office late this coming week. Unfortunately, your appointment is one of the few that will need to be rescheduled and I wanted to talk about your availability so that we can get you in as soon as possible.”

“Ah…” He fidgets with the hem of his sweater. It’s a tiny inconvenience, but it turns his stomach anyway. “When is her soonest available time?”

“To compensate for this inconvenience she has opened the office today, and we could get you in any time between three and six this afternoon.”

“Ah…is there anything after today?”

“Unfortunately there is no availability until late next week, so today would be the soonest you could see her. We are very sorry for this last minute change.”

“No, it’s fine. If you would please put me down for six.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

The receptionist is quick to hang up the phone leaving him with a new source of anxiety eating away at his insides. He returns to where Kyoutani’s sprawled out on a blanket blowing thick white smoke into the air from the vape pen Terushima lent him. Before he can ask what’s wrong, Yahaba’s falling on top of him, knocking him on his back with an _oof!_

“Keeeeeeeeeeeeeen,” he whines.

“ _Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat_.”

Yahaba narrows his eyes at him.

“Don't mock me when I'm sad, jerk.”

“What're you sad about, dick?”

“I had an appointment that was moved to this afternoon. I'll need to be home by five.”

“That all? It's only one now. We got three hours.”

Yahaba grumbles a complaint into Kyoutani's chest.

“What's that, babe?”

“I wanted to spend all day with you…”

“Pft. You won't be gone all night. What kinda appointment is it?”

“I'm...seeing a doctor.”

“For what? Are you okay?”

Kyoutani's eyes are searching for any sign that something is wrong with him. Yahaba takes a deep breath to settle his nerves.

“I don't...I don't want to tell you yet. But I will. When I'm ready…”

He knows Kyoutani won't push him about it, and he does want to tell him soon, but he's embarrassed and so much has already happened just over the last month.

Kyoutani moves to kiss him, but thinks better of it, glancing around as best he can from where Yahaba's still laying on him. Yahaba looks around too; they really are out of the way, partially hidden by one of the trees. He leans in to peck the blond on the lips.

“It's always gonna be like this, Shigeru.”

“Hmm?”

“Us. Having to sneak around and hide when we're in public.” Yahaba sits up, settling against the tree with Kyoutani following him, pulling off Yahaba's shoes to set them next to his own off the blanket. “The anxiety doesn't go away. So, I guess I'll understand. If it's too much for you.”

Kyoutani looks him dead in the eyes, and he seems so uncharacteristically vulnerable, anxious, even. He's had to deal with this since was a teenager (once it was obvious he couldn't fake being straight), and would be dealing with it for the rest of his life. Yahaba could run any time he wanted to, find a nice normal girl and live a boring, safe life.

Yahaba lets out a sigh, his head dropping to Kyoutani's shoulder.

“Idiot. Even though I could be out with Masae openly, I was miserable with her. But even just us alone watching television on the couch, I'm happy. I don't want to go be with a woman just because it's convenient.” Yahaba lifts his head to grin at him. “Besides, I already claimed you on Instagram, to take that back would be embarrassing, especially for you.”

Kyoutani's glaring through his own embarrassment and refuses to look at him. He's busying himself pulling a second blanket over their legs and unpacking the bento while Yahaba watches curiously.  It's a two tier box and once opened he can see kara-age, onigiri, sliced octopus, rei-shabu, two different rolls of sushi, dango, and what he hopes is tamagoyaki.

“Ken, when did you do all this?”

“While you were passed the fuck out,” he mumbles, fumbling with a thermos. “Not that big a deal. I bought the chicken and dango, so s’not like I made everything. Here.”

He thrusts the thermos at Yahaba, ears turning red.

It would never cease to amaze and upset him how nobody but himself really saw how wonderful Kyoutani could be.

They eat in a comfortable silence, pressed together under the warmth of the blanket. Yahaba’s initial assumptions are correct and Kyoutani _has_ prepared tamagoyaki for him, and he munches away happily, rubbing their shoulders together. Yahaba spends the majority of their final hour and a half taking picture after picture of the cherry blossoms. He sneaks some of Kyoutani, not wanting to miss this opportunity, and Kyoutani retaliates by taking pictures of him. At some point, they’re both recording Instagram videos of one another at the same time while throwing insults and curses at each other, effectively confusing their entire friend group about the nature of their relationship (not that many people really understood their dynamic to begin with).

Kyoutani gets him home a little after five. He offers to drive him to wherever he’s going, but Yahaba declines, not wanting him to figure out what’s going on before he’s ready to tell him.

He makes Kyoutani promise to come back later that night, and with that they’re going their separate ways.

The train ride to the doctor’s office is nerve wracking; it shouldn’t be, he’s doing this for the best, as one of the things he told himself he needed to do in order to pick himself back up in life. He’s been in a wonderful mood lately, but without working on his personal issues he realizes that it won’t last.

The office suite isn’t very large, yet it looms over him. He takes a deep breath before stepping inside.

 

* * *

 

Kyoutani's walked and fed the dogs, gone to the gym, played with and fed Fumio, and showered at Yahaba’s house all while waiting for the brunette to get home. He forgot to bring any spare clothes so he made himself comfortable and slipped on a pair of Yahaba’s sweatpants, the gray material hugging his thighs in a flattering manner.

He’s laying on the couch reading a random book he found lying around, Fumio sprawled out on his chest purring. There are no noisy neighbors making a ruckus tonight but the silence is making him antsy.

He’s sure that their date was a success, there was no way for Yahaba to rebuke his efforts, and he _was_ told to be here when Yahaba got back. Still, this mystery doctor’s visit was weighing heavy on his mind. He would just have to trust that he’d be informed if there were anything he absolutely needed to know.

But fuck did he hate not knowing.

He hears fumbling at the door not a moment too soon. Yahaba enters and his eyes widen when he sees Kyoutani on the couch.

“I’m home.”

“Welcome home. Took you long enough.”

Yahaba’s out of his jacket and shoes and plops down onto Kyoutani when he gets to the couch. Fumio goes flying off to the bedroom.

“ _Oof--!_ You keep fucking falling on me.”

“You’re a big boy, you can take it.” Yahaba grins. There’s none of the looming dread in his expression like there was when they parted ways, so he assumes whatever he was doing went well. “Do you want me to get off?”

Kyoutani hums. He pulls Yahaba closer and gives him a chaste kiss on the lips. When he tugs at Yahaba’s sweater, there’s no resistance as he pulls it off. He goes for his pants next, tugging uselessly until the brunette stands up and takes them off himself. When Yahaba’s settled on the couch laying with him, back to chest, they turn on the TV and Kyoutani closes his eyes, holding Yahaba close.

He’s lost track of time and has no idea what’s been playing in the background when he’s brought back to the present by Yahaba pressing back into his hips. It’s barely noticeable at first, but the longer he goes ignored the more force he uses. Kyoutani smiles into his hair when Yahaba huffs, clearly irritated at the lack of response he’s getting.

It doesn’t take much for him to get completely hard, his erection pressed firmly against Yahaba’s backside.

“ _Ken_ ,” Yahaba whines for the millionth time that day. He finally turns his torso to pout at him properly. “It’s not fair. Me coming home to you lounging casually on my couch in... _that_.”

“In what?”

Yahaba’s scowling at the grin that split across his face.

“In those tight fucking pants, jackass.”

Kyoutani kisses him with a meaningless apology, hands roaming down his sides to grip at his hips as he grinds into the cleft of his ass. Yahaba moans into his mouth, pressing back into him eagerly. Kyoutani slowly unbuttons Yahaba’s shirt from the bottom up, kissing along his ear and cheek while the brunette continues rocking against him.

“Do you want something, Shigeru?”

“I want you to cut the shit and finally fuck me, _Kentarou_.”

Kyoutani suppresses a shudder. He was thinking that he might have the upper hand this time, but it looks like Yahaba will be calling the shots again tonight. That’s fine, though.

Yahaba wriggles out of his grasp and drops his shirt over Kyoutani’s face as he saunters off to the bedroom. The blond discards the article of clothing onto the floor, watching him walk away. He makes a grab for his wallet, tossing it to the side when he’s got what he needs, and heads off after Yahaba.

He’s pulled to the bed as soon as he’s within arms reach of Yahaba, falling on top of him with a bounce. There are hands immediately all over him, sliding across his chest and ribs while Yahaba kisses him like he needs it to survive. He let's his own hands run along Yahaba’s sides, down his sharp hips. He pushes his own pants down, kicking them off of his legs, and brings Yahaba’s legs up to rest the backs of his knees against Kyoutani’s shoulders so he can slip the brunette’s briefs off with ease.

Yahaba hides his face as Kyoutani looks him over; this is the first time either of them have been completely naked in the same room. He takes in the pale skin underneath him, smooth and evenly colored with moles dotting across his skin. One of Yahaba’s legs falls and Kyoutani thumbs one of the brown dots on his hip while the brunette squirms under his touch.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed _now_.”

“Shut up…” He lets out a groan, peeking out under the arm he’s got slung across his face. “Why wouldn’t I be…? Have you seen yourself?”

Kyoutani kisses at his knee, sliding his hand along his thigh.

“I like lookin’ at you more…” Yahaba releases a breath, color rising faintly across his cheeks. He feels around blindly with his free hand and thrusts a bottle at Kyoutani. He takes it, popping it open and coating his fingers in the thick liquid. “Eager?”

“ _Yes_.”

It comes out as a breath, and Kyoutani can’t help wondering how much Yahaba has thought about this.

He leans forward to pepper kisses across Yahaba’s chest as he presses a finger against Yahaba’s entrance, prodding gently without enough force to penetrate him. It makes him squirm, groaning, clearly not in the mood for any more bullshit.

“Keeeeen-- _AHH_.”

He presses, his finger sinking in fairly easily, while sucking at Yahaba’s collarbone.

“How much have you been playing with yourself thinking of me, Shigeru?”

“Mmmm...enough. Now hurry up,” he demands, though it’s weak with the way his breath is picking up from rocking into the blond’s hand. Kyoutani presses another finger in, the rim of muscle putting up more resistance now, and slowly back into him. “Ahhhh...Ken, _fuck_...I’ve been waiting for this…”

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been wanting this, too, but the sight of Yahaba actually laying in front of him being scissored open by his fingers is more arousing than anything he’s been able to fantasize about. He’s more than eager to be inside of him, but the last thing he’ll do is rush this and risk hurting Yahaba, even if the brunette is pulling him close, kissing him desperately with pleas escaping his lips.

Kyoutani inserts a third finger only when Yahaba begins throwing curses at him, squirming impatiently and nipping at every part of Kyoutani he can get his mouth on. He finds himself imagining Yahaba fingering himself in his very room (not for the first time) and makes a mental note to figure out what that looks like some time soon.

He feels around inside of Yahaba, pressing against his walls and curling his fingers until Yahaba’s arching and moaning at the sensation of his prostate being stimulated.

“Ken, come the fuck on, _I want you_.”

Kyoutani is nothing if not eager to please Yahaba.

He gives him a few more thrusts before pulling out. Yahaba is wound up and impatient. There will be time to toy with him in the future once they’re both calmed down and gotten a little more comfortable around one another.

He rips open the condom that he’s been holding, almost forgetting he had it at all, and rolls it on. While he’s coating himself with lube, Yahaba takes the time to flip himself around, pressing his ass into the air, his previous self consciousness replaced with need.

He gropes Yahaba appreciatively, taking in the sight. He presses his fingers into him one last time to watch him squirm, pulling out with his fingers spread, pleased with the way Yahaba’s hips follow the retreat of his hand.

Finally, Kyoutani lines himself up with Yahaba's entrance. He's still not entirely satisfied that he won't hurt him, but the man on his hands and knees in front of him is wiggling impatiently, rubbing the tip of Kyoutani's dick around his stretched hole. Yahaba's practically whining when Kyoutani begins sliding himself in slowly, as to not hurt him.

Yahaba's impatient groans turn into a long, breathless _“fuuuuuuuuuuuuck”_ as Kyoutani's cock sinks further in. He stops before he’s all the way in to let Yahaba get a hold of himself, but the brunette is having none of that; with one forceful push, Yahaba's ass is flush against Kyoutani's hips and he's so fucking tight that Kyoutani can't think straight.

Any breath Yahaba had leaves him. His torso sinks down, resting his head on one of his folded arms, gripping at the sheets with the other as he tries to steady his breathing, but it only pushes Kyoutani further into him.

_“Fuck, Shigeru…”_

Yahaba huffs, finally regaining his ability to speak.

“Move before I lose my fucking mind.”

“You okay, tough? So fucking tight…”

“Loosen me up, then,” Yahaba snaps, but he doesn't wait for Kyoutani to take charge. He begins bouncing his hips on his own, Kyoutani watching himself go in, out, in, out of Yahaba. Yahaba whines again and Kyoutani's eyes trail up the skin of his pale back to his shoulder blades, protruding at sharp angles and he can't help running a hand along Yahaba's spine to rest between his shoulders. He finally looks at Yahaba's face; he's looking at Kyoutani over his shoulder and it's obvious that he's trying to scowl, but it's completely lost even as he tries to mask his pleasure. It might be the rush of finally finding himself balls deep in the guy he's been pining after for over a year, but watching Yahaba get off fucking himself on Kyoutani's dick is probably the sexiest thing he's seen in his young life. “Ken…”

Kyoutani bows forward again, kissing the moles on Yahaba’s back, trailing slowly up to meet his lips as best he can with the awkward angle. Before Yahaba can complain again, he pulls back and thrusts, and the brunette loses his breath against Kyoutani’s mouth.

He runs his tanned hands along Yahaba's arms, pulling the one out from underneath his head to lace their fingers together. He nips at the brunettes neck, thrusting steadily into him while he sucks bruises into his skin.

Having Yahaba's mouth full of his cock was fantastic, but  being able to hear him moaning and whining is absolutely heavenly, and it seems to be all Yahaba is capable of doing at the moment.

Kyoutani adjusts the angle of his thrusts a few times before Yahaba is practically screaming underneath him. Yahaba buries his face in a pillow, muffling himself as Kyoutani pounds into him relentlessly.

Which is unacceptable, really.  

Kyoutani pulls out of him and has him flipped over before he can even protest. Yahaba stares up at him with half-lidded eyes, panting heavily.

Yahaba wraps his legs and arms around him, pulling him closer to kiss him, lips parted and inviting. It’s barely even a kiss, more of a plea. Kyoutani thrusts back into him with more force, ever eager to comply, reveling in his surprised moans.

He feels a stinging on his back as Yahaba digs his nails into the flesh.

There are no complaints, just curses and Kyoutani's name on a breathless repeat, so he can only assume Yahaba is enjoying this as much as Kyoutani is.

Kyoutani knows he's already close, so he finds Yahaba's erection, stroking him steadily in time with his thrusts. Yahaba comes over his own stomach a few minutes later with a gasp that was probably supposed to be a moan; if the clenching around Kyoutani's cock wasn't enough to aid his climax, the way Yahaba bit down on his shoulder sure was, and several thrusts later Kyoutani's filling the condom, grinding his hips into Yahaba's  ass as he rides through the waves of pleasure.

He slumps forward panting. Yahaba laughs underneath of him and he can feel the vibrations through his dick where they're still joined.

“The fuck you laughin’ at.”

He pulls out, tossing the condom in the trash bin. Yahaba hums in place of a proper reply and Kyoutani pays him no mind. He leaves Yahaba lying motionless in the bed to clean himself off before doing the same to the brunette, still limp over the sheets. He tosses the soiled wash cloth carelessly into the dirty clothes hamper. Once he's turned all the lights and the TV off he joins Yahaba in bed, yanking the covers out from under him. Yahaba hasn't even opened his eyes, he just snuggles up to Kyoutani with a content sigh, mouthing lazily at his neck.

Kyoutani feels like he could probably float into the sky if Yahaba weren't clinging onto him so tight. He runs his fingers through his sandy hair, nuzzling into the soft locks.

He's wanted this for so long, put up with so much shit, but at the end of it all he'd do it a million times over. Yahaba was definitely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyoutani trying to quit smoking is the only way Terushima can get him to vape. It's Yahaba's favorite method since it leaves him smelling like berries, but Kyoutani will die before he thanks Terushima for helping him out.
> 
> Smut is really hard to write...it's like my mind goes blank when I actually try to write it out, but I think I'll get better. This fic is a test of my own abilities to write, after all...that being said, if I've given you an estimate for how much longer I think this fic will be, throw that out, I'm a damn liar. Inspiration punched me in the face and there's a bunch more scenes being added and I have no ability to translate it into an estimated word length, so...*shrug* But I do finally have a solid idea of what I'm doing from here out.
> 
> Also, enjoy your disgustingly sugar coated fluffy bullshit while it lasts, Kyoutani's mom isn't the only family either of the boys will be seeing.
> 
> AND on a completely unrelated note, I can't watch [this music video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njK53aD3Wrc&index=21&list=RDMMi1R4R84-EPA) without seeing Terushima in the artist because of his fucking hair, so new hc for Teru fashion.


	10. Thanks, Kakuji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good, we’re on the same page about something.” Kakuji smiles, lopsided and genuine. The compulsion to punch him in his stupid glasses-wearing face lessens just a bit. “Yahaba-san seems nice. What’s he doin’ settling for you?”
> 
> “For your information, I’m a fucking _stud_ and you can shut your bitch mouth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the r slur. And of course homophobia and some womanizing.
> 
>  **EDIT Dec 11, 2017:** So I got my notes really super confused and didn't realize Mother's Day is in _May_. So as of now I've redone this chapter to reflect this realization and line back up the way it's supposed to based on the holiday. See end notes for the changes if you don't wanna re-read the opening scene (which had all relevant changes)! Thanks!

Kyoutani and Yahaba spend the next few weeks becoming intimately familiar with just about every surface in both of their apartments (and even some in the shop) as they prepare for Yahaba’s move. They manage to quickly sort through what’s left of Nomura-san’s belongings in the spare room, getting rid of anything they won’t be able to use, and stacking and sorting the furniture until they can move it to Junko’s apartment once she arrives in Tokyo.

The second week of April comes too soon and Yahaba is back to work before either of them know it. The final week of April is spent moving Yahaba’s belongings and getting him situated in his room (which is made much easier with Watari and Terushima’s added assistance). Introducing Fumio to the dogs is probably the most difficult part, as she’s never had to live with any other animals and Colonel has never met a cat before.

Kyoutani is the most anxious about Dai, though. When he rescued the pitbull he was told that he did surprisingly well with small animals, but Kyoutani knew his temper could be unpredictable and he was easy to startle. He’s not sure what he would do if Dai accidentally hurt Fumio.

Fumio immediately takes to hissing and growling, letting the dogs know that she’s not sure where she is, but it’s her house now and they better fuck off. Colonel gets scratched a handful of times before he finally backs off. Dai, to Kyoutani’s relief, avoids the cat altogether. Yahaba seems pleased with the way things go, so he counts that as a victory.

By the beginning of May, Kyoutani is so swamped with advanced orders for Mother’s Day (the most hectic holiday for florists) that he’s hardly able to see Yahaba outside of work before nine at night. Terushima is still hanging around (dejected by continued rejections from Mr. Whoever-The-Fuck-He-Is) and it really is a relief to see him and Yahaba getting along. Kyoutani loves him and all, but he’s fully aware that Yahaba can be...vicious and petty.

He leaves the brunette in charge of deciding which duplicate objects they’ll keep and which will be thrown out; Yahaba could throw out all of Kyoutani’s shit and the blond wouldn’t really care. Most of his household belongings were hand-me-downs from Nomura-san, anyway.

The week before Mother’s Day comes far too soon (always the most stressful since it's obviously Kyoutani's fault when husbands and children wait until the last minute to look for flowers). On top of that, Maruyama’s availability has began to slowly dwindle. It was only a matter of time before she went into her music full time, but he's been too distracted over the past few months to really prepare.

Yahaba flicks his nose, staring up at him from where he's laying his head on Kyoutani's chest.

“If your face gets any scrunchier than it already is, I won't want to be seen with you.”

“Go to sleep and don't worry about it.”

“You're thinking too much when you should be sleeping. I can't sleep for both of us.”

He kisses the top of Yahaba's head grumbling, “mind your own damn business,” but does as he's told.

The week is just as busy as he anticipated with the phone ringing off the hook and foot traffic picking up the closer they get to the weekend. By Wednesday, their entire stock of roses has been bought, sitting in the fridge in premade bouquets and assortments waiting to be picked up or delivered.

Kyoutani's patience has already been worn thin on Friday by the time the first pompous asshole decides Kiyoko is the bane of his existence. Kiyoko is a bit more difficult to intimidate than Yachi is, but that doesn't mean Kyoutani will stand by and let it happen. He's not quick enough with his intervention to throw the guy out before he lays his hands on her, but it's only a matter of seconds before he's got him by the scruff, hurling him onto the sidewalk with a snarl.

Back in the shop Yachi is hovering around Kiyoko, an anxious mess, and Kiyoko nods her head at Kyoutani in silent thanks.

He's not expecting Maru to march up and grab him by the elbow. He could break free from her grasp with little effort, but the look on her face is dangerous as she drags him across the shop floor and up the stairs. She doesn't stop until they're in the middle of his living room, halved in size by the addition of Yahaba's couch and the old furniture that won't be moved until after the weekend. The dogs run to greet them, leaving Kimi to play her cello alone in Kyoutani's bedroom, oblivious to their intrusion on her rehearsal time.

“What the hell is eating at you today?” she demands, a ferocity in her voice that no one that small should have. “You've been snippy and aggressive all damn day. So _talk_.”

“I don't have to tell you shit,” he snarls, looming over her. With more than a foot of height separating them, it isn't difficult, but as always she remains unfazed, fully aware he'd never lay his hands on her. “It's none of your fucking business.”

He expects their stalemate to last until she's fed up enough to walk away and ignore him, and he's sure that point is about to happen as he watches her face scrunch up in frustration. From the other room, the song comes to an end, but the cello remains silent, and all of Maru’s frustration dies with the sound. Her shoulders slump and her face softens into something of concern. The vulnerability in her eyes feels uncomfortably intimate as she looks up at him looking every bit as exhausted as he feels.

_He remembers late nights meeting behind dumpsters, tears running down her face in the silence of night, hiding in her closet when she was afraid to be at home with her parents._

She puts in such an effort to close herself off that it's easy to forget she's only human. He doesn't remember at what point in their lives they decided they were at odds. He supposes that knowing secrets neither would want anyone to know might do that, but he still feels petty about it in moments like this.

“Kentarou.” He hates how natural his name sounds from her mouth. “A lot has been going on and I just need to know that you're okay.”

He backs away with a sigh. “I'm fine, Hikaru. Just a lot of shit’s goin’ on.”

“Like what? Is everything...okay with Yahaba-kun?” She glances around at the stacks of boxes and unfamiliar decorations set about the living room; he had never bothered to decorate much so Yahaba's additions seemed out of place. “Did you give him free reign or something…”

Kyoutani actually snorts, folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah. I don't really care what he does. But no, nothing's really happened between us…”

“Are you afraid?”

He doesn't need her to clarify and he doesn't need to really consider the answer. It's been weighing heavy on his mind since they got Yahaba's bed through the door.

“Yeah,” he answers honestly. “He could realize he's too good for me at any time.”

She hums thoughtfully. “It's only the second time you've lived with a boyfriend. Though, I must admit, I am surprised it's happening so quickly.”

“I didn't...it wasn't because of getting together, I asked before that. Then shit just kinda happened…”

“As shit is wont to do. I'm not meaning that I think it was a mistake, you two have been on each other's nuts since the beginning. I'm sure it'll work out. I don't think he's the kind of person who would move in with you if he weren't serious.”

He nods his head in agreement, watching her sit delicately on the new couch.

“Y’know, it almost sounds like you don't hate him.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I don't just hate everyone, ass.” He rolls his eyes, not entirely convinced. “Whatever. Don't tell me your inferiority complex is the only thing bothering you.”

He thinks about cutting the conversation short, telling her that was all and going back to the shop. But it had been a long time since the two of them talked privately like this, and internalizing his worries and emotions was probably a bad thing.

“He's gonna meet my brothers next week.”

He doesn't have to elaborate. Maru visibly winces at the thought, probably remembering their childhood. He’s sure she hates his brothers just as much as he does.

“That could go…terribly.”

“Yup.”

“Well, at least it’s not your dad.” The thought is almost laughable; his father kicked him out years ago when he found his stash of men’s underwear catalogues in the closet. That was when Nomura-san took him in officially, though she had been feeding him well before that. He hasn’t seen his father since he was seventeen and he didn’t intend on seeing the man ever again. “Do you think he had any more kids? Can you imagine that there may be more Kyoutanis out there…”

_“Oh god.”_

The thought that he may have more brothers or even some sisters out there that he’s never met is an uncomfortable one, but he wouldn’t be surprised. He really hopes that if it’s true, none of his brothers feel the need to mention it.

A silence falls over them, both deep in thought. His mind wanders back to Maru and what’s happening in her life.

“Hey.” She glances back at him, her only indication that she's listening. “Are you and…”

She's grinning now, clearly amused by his efforts to actually show interest in her life.

“Am I what?” she teases. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the half-wall with a scowl. She chuckles to herself. “Yes, he and I are doing well. Has Yahaba-kun not told you?”

“Watari doesn't talk about it. I assumed you told him not to.”

She hums thoughtfully, her expression softening.

“I guess there are things he thinks might upset Yahaba-kun. With recent events, I can't really blame him.”

Kyoutani nods, understanding exactly what she means. Yahaba had been irritated with Watari’s secrecy, but at the end of the day it really was none of his business.

They shared a comfortable silence for a moment before Kimi was bouncing into the room and demanding an audience. Kyoutani hadn't really rested that day, so it was easy to sink into his couch and comply, only nodding off once to the sound of the cello.

Sunday came and went in the blink of an eye; Kyoutani didn't have a moment to stop until everything was delivered and he was coming back through the door at 4 pm, grumbling to the girls to only bother him if they needed someone assaulted. He meant to lay in bed for only a moment and wait the extra hour for Yahaba to get home from Oikawa’s, but once his eyes were closed they don't open again until his 3 am alarm was blaring. Yahaba was slapping him lazily, too tired to do much else, mumbling what Kyoutani could only assume were profanities for the disturbance.

He was up and ready fairly quickly, stumbling over excited dogs. There was a note from Yahaba on the kitchen counter threatening him to drive safe and a bento packed in the fridge for the road. The coffee maker had been set on a timer and he thanked any god there was for the gift that was Yahaba Shigeru.

The four and a half hour drive was still hell, but at least he was too out of it for most of the trip to register. He picks up his second eldest brother, Kenzou, (seeing him for the first time in eight years) first and they spend the entire ten minute drive in an awkward silence after Kenzou’s initial “shit you got buff.” Their mother wasted no time with pleasantries when they arrived, throwing open the doors to the van and loading in boxes before Kyoutani was even out of the vehicle. With very little furniture to deal with, they're on the road in less than an hour.

Junko takes the opportunity to grill her youngest son about his love life, going on and on about things Yahaba would text her and pictures she would receive.

He made a mental note to kill Yahaba later.

Still, he loved his mom and knowing that she approved of his choice in men gave him an odd feeling of satisfaction he'd never experienced before. The disgust on his brother's face over having to listen to them talk about Kyoutani's gay life was satisfying in other ways.

He may be dreading his brothers meeting his boyfriend, but at least they'd be forced to behave while their mother was present.

Kenzou begins complaining about his wife and suddenly the commute back is dragging on again.

His remaining siblings are waiting for them in the parking lot. Kyoutani expects negative reactions, so he's unfazed when Kazuya (the eldest) ignores him to greet Kenzou. What surprises him is when Kakuji actually nods at him and says, “good to see you, Kenni.”

Kyoutani's scowl depends. “Don't call me that, we're both grown ass adults.”

Kakuji actually grins up at him, looking him over with his sleepy eyes.

“You're still the baby brother, though. Even if you got fucking huge. Like, shit.”

He's not wrong. Kentarou is the the tallest of the Kyoutani boys, beating their oldest brother by just a few inches. Kenzou is about half a foot shorter with Kakuji another half foot shorter than Kenzou. Kentarou is also the broadest brother and, it seems, the fittest.

He feels a petty sense of superiority at the realization.

Kazuya finally gives him a one-over with an expression Kyoutani can't quite place.

Before either of them can say anything, Junko is shoving boxes at them, complaining about how useless her sons are. She leads them into the building, up the elevator, and to the far end of the hall.

“Shigeru-kun!”

“Junko-san, it's good to see you again.” Kyoutani enters in time to see his mother pull Yahaba down by the collar, kissing his cheek. He notices Yahaba is wearing one of Kyoutani's sweaters that's too big for him, and he's not sure if he wants to kiss him or punch him. “I hope Ken didn't give you too much trouble.”

Punch him.

“Nothing different than how he usually is.” They both sigh dramatically. “Thank you for cleaning up, dear, you really didn't have to take a day off work just to help me.”

Yahaba shakes his head. “Not at all. I'm happy to help.”

Junko pinches his cheek with a grin.

“Such a good boy. You should have a seat while the worker bees bring in the boxes. Or you can help me in the kitchen, your call.”

Yahaba hums in acknowledgement as they part ways. He finally turns his attention to Kyoutani, frowning slightly.

“You look like hell.” Kyoutani grunts in reply, but he's sure Yahaba's not wrong. It's been a busy month, the last week being more hectic than any other, followed by an extremely early morning and ten hours driving a van. He's a bit surprised when Yahaba walks up and kisses him gently, but it's welcome all the same (and it gets his two oldest brothers out of the room). “A few more hours and we can go home. I'll even make dinner tonight.”

“I guess I wouldn't mind your shitty cooking.”

Next to them, Kakuji clears his throat to get their attention. He holds his hand out to Yahaba.

“Kyoutani Kakuji, third oldest.”

Yahaba hesitates to glance at Kyoutani before shaking the offered hand.

“Yahaba Shigeru. Nice to meet you.”

“You're not really what I expected. Kenni looks like a hoodlum and you look like you just got back from a golf club. Or like a teacher.”

Yahaba snorts, cutting Kyoutani off before he can argue. “I am a teacher, so thanks?”

Kyoutani grabs Kakuji by the elbow and drags him out of the apartment. “Be right back, Shigeru.”

His brother doesn’t seem too upset about being handled, but he does jerk his arm back when they’re away from the door. They head to the elevators in silence, passing the other two brothers as they exit, and the atmosphere on the way to the first floor is tense.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” is how Kakuji breaks the silence once they’re lifting boxes from the truck. “You look like you’re debating the best way to murder me.”

“I always look like this.” Kyoutani’s face scrunches further. Kakuji was never the worst brother, but the lesser of three evils wasn’t exactly an achievement. “But whatever the fuck you’re doing, whatever game you’re playing, you leave Shigeru out of it.”

Kakuji sighs, tapping his foot as he waits for Kyoutani to walk with him again.

“Look, I understand if you don’t like me. I know I wasn’t there when dad kicked you out, but that was six years ago. Yeah, I wasn’t happy about it when I heard it from dad and I said a lot of shitty things that you never got to hear, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I can’t relate to how you feel, but I don’t want to think any less of you for it ‘cause I know that’s fucked up now. So I’m gonna be nice to this boyfriend of yours, and if I treat you like shit it’s just ‘cause you’re an asshole. Which apparently hasn’t changed.”

Kyoutani hits the elevator up button with his knee, scowling over at his brother.

“Same goes to you.”

“Good, we’re on the same page about something.” Kakuji smiles, lopsided and genuine. The compulsion to punch him in his stupid glasses-wearing face lessens just a bit. “Yahaba-san seems nice. What’s he doin’ settling for you?”

Kyoutani shoves past him into the elevator once the doors are open, clicking his tongue.

“For your information, I’m a fucking _stud_ and you can shut your bitch mouth.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll have to take your word for it...when the fuck did you get ripped, though, like seriously. What the fuck.”

“Some of us take care of ourselves, and some of us get pudgy.  I work out and you...are probably the same as always.”

Kakuji nods, following Kyoutani back into the apartment.

“True. But video games are like...movies you participate in. Working out is...so much work.”

“What do you play?” Yahaba leans on the counter dividing the kitchen from the livingroom. “We just got done with the new Biohazard.”

“No shit. I haven’t touched that yet...I’m more of a shooter guy, myself.”

“Don’t worry, Ken is a baby, too.”

Kyoutani flips him off once he’s pushed his boxes into a corner.

“I changed my mind. Your boyfriend is mean. The two of you belong together.”

Junko didn’t have much to pack, so unloading the van takes no time at all with four men doing all the lifting. Kyoutani leaves with Kazuya and Kenzou to get the furniture from home, shooting Kakuji a warning glare. Even if Kakuji were being genuine, Kyoutani didn’t make it this far in life sitting under a rainbow believing everything anyone ever told him.

At the shop, Kyoutani has a moment of realization; there are three women here today and his brothers are raging womanizers. Maru and Kimi are here specifically, and they both probably hoped to never see any other Kyoutani boy ever again.

Maru is already glaring at them when they walk through the door.

“Hikaru-chan~!” Kenzou stalks up to the counter where Maru has her hands hovering over her electric keyboard. “You’ve really grown up.”

“We are not on a first name basis.” _Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you_ is written clearly in the way she scowls up at him. “I have a boyfriend, so don’t ask. And no, you couldn’t treat me better, there is no universe in which you ever could. Goodbye.”

She shoves her headphones on and returns to her music, eyes pointedly focused on the motion of her slender fingers across the keys. Kiyoko picks that moment to come out from the back room. The brothers may not all look exactly alike, but enough that you can tell at a glance they’re closely related. Kiyoko seems startled by this, looking back and forth between them.

Kazuya hones in on her before Kyoutani can intervene.

“Why hello, beautiful--”

“I’m gay.”

Before she can retreat, he grabs her arm, but Kyoutani is on him in an instant, yanking him back by the shoulder.

 _“Both of you, up the stairs.”_ His brothers both share a look but make no indication that they’re willing to listen to him. Kyoutani moves his hand up between Kazuya’s shoulder and neck and squeezes the trapezius muscle hard enough to make him yelp. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Alright, alright. Was just being _nice_.”

Kyoutani leads them up the stairs, restraining Dai while he growls and barks at the intruders. Colonel huffs at them, but sniffs curiously. Kimi peeks out from Kyoutani’s bedroom and her face falls when she sees who else is there. Once both dogs are locked in his bedroom with her, they get to work moving the furniture out to the van. It’s a pain in the ass getting everything down the steep steps and through the shop, but once they’re done his home looks much less cluttered and Yahaba now has more floor space in his own bedroom. Kiyoko has been hiding out in the back room the entire time, but Maru is still sitting stubbornly at the counter, now with Kimi fidgeting next to her, rocking uncontrollably in her seat.

“Nice to see you Kimiko, Hikaru.” Kazuya waves on their way out, but both girls choose to ignore him. He laughs like he remembered a good joke, climbing into the passenger seat.

“How the fuck can you be boning some dude when there’s such a fox right downstairs?”

“Well, being as she and I are are both _gay_ , I’d think that’s the answer.”

 _Shigeru is gorgeous_ sits heavy on his tongue, but he knows neither of these idiots would ever understand. There were so many things about him that they refused to understand.

“The retarded prodigy isn’t lookin’ too bad these days, either.”

The urge to drive into the nearest wall was a difficult one to ignore.

“Kimi’s not _retarded,_ she’s _autistic,_ and you’re not gonna fuckin’ call her that again.”

Kazuya scoffs. “Ain’t it the same thing? That’s the term for it, right. She’s mentally retarded. It’s the technical term.”

Kyoutani’s grip on the steering wheel tightens and he finds himself wondering if he was ever this ignorant and pig headed. He really, really hopes he was never like this.

His brothers continue chatting on, and it's so stereotypically heterosexual Kyoutani wants to scream ( _“Wonder if the really hot girl does three ways,” “Hikaru-chan is still a huge bitch, but at least she's got the tits for it now,” “Kimiko was just being shy, pretty sure she had a thing for me.”_ )

He knows he's red with rage and about to snap by the time they return. He storms into the building without looking back, takes the stairs two at a time, and throws the apartment door open, startling the three who stayed behind.

Yahaba and Junko glare at him.

“Shigeru. Outside. _Now_.”

He doesn't wait, just turns back around and marches back down the stairs. He hears Yahaba rushing to catch up and leads him out the back exit. He doesn't even get fully turned around before Yahaba's arms are around him.

Kyoutani nuzzles into the crook of his neck, grabbing the sides of the sweater and pulling him closer.

“I need a fucking cigarette.”

“Bet you do.” The hands running up and down his back help sooth the tension in his muscles. He all but melts against Yahaba. “What'd they do?”

“They're so gross. And so straight.”

Yahaba hums in lieu of a response. Kyoutani pulls away enough to grab the vape from his pocket and takes a drag. It's not the same as a cigarette, but the tiny traces of nicotine will at least trick his body for a while. He huffs a thick ring of smoke at Yahaba's face.

“Stop that,” he warns, but the grin pulling at his lips betrays him. He leans in, stealing the rest of the smoke from Kyoutani's mouth before blowing what's left back into his face.

“That's hot.”

Yahaba shoves him away with a smirk and an expletive before they finally go to help with the furniture. It's easy to go back to ignoring his brothers until they begin making snide remarks about Yahaba when they think he can't hear. Yahaba must also catch some of their conversation because the smile he's wearing is dangerous enough to keep Kyoutani in line, and he isn't even on the receiving end.

When Junko steps out to have a cigarette while the boys arrange the furniture, Yahaba speaks up.

“If you have something to say to either of us, you should say it already. Talking behind our backs where we can hear is juvenile and, frankly, pathetic.”

Kazuya scoffs at him. “Who the fuck you think you're talkin’ to, you fucking fairy.”

“You, shit face.”

Kyoutani really, _really_ loves Yahaba. Probably a bit too much.

“I don't need my faggy baby brother's slutty little cock suckin’ bitch back talking me.”

Yahaba's smile falters for the first time. Then, he's snorting a laugh, pulling out his phone.

“Oh shit, I love that. I need to text that real quick, hold on.”

“Hey, don't ignore me bit-”

Kazuya steps forward, but Kyoutani is quick to get between them. There's only inches separating them.

“Call my boyfriend a bitch one more fucking time.”

When they were kids, Kyoutani and Kakuji were the ones that were pushed around by the older two. _“Boys will be boys”_ and _“they need to learn to defend themselves”_ is what their father would say when their mother tried to stop it.

But it's been years since then. Kyoutani isn't the same kid he used to be and Kazuya isn't nearly as intimidating as when they were children.

“C’mon, dumbasses,” Kakuji interrupts. “Let's be civil. Otherwise you'll upset mom.”

“Wouldn't be any problem if Kentarou would leash his bitch-”

Kazuya is thrown back into the wall before the last syllable is out of his mouth. Kyoutani raises his fist to strike, but someone grabs his bicep before he can do it.

“Stop it, Ken. He's not worth it.” Yahaba gently tugs at his arm. “Kakuji-kun is right. Junko-san will be back soon.”

Kyoutani scowls down at his brother, fist still raised, but he eventually complies and allows Yahaba to drag him away. Junko is back a few minutes after and immediately notices the tension, eyebrow raised as she looks between each of them.

“Kazu wants ramen for lunch, but Kenni wants sushi.” Kakuji ignores both of the scowls sent his way.

Junko turns to Yahaba.

“What would you like, sugar?”

“Hot pot.”

“Lead the way, then.”

There's a decent little place a few blocks away so they walk there, more to cool off Kyoutani than anything. They get a booth in the back of the restaurant where they won't be bothering other people. Yahaba leans heavily against Kyoutani, their fingers laced together in his lap. Kyoutani is still pissed off that Kazuya and Kenzou are here, but it's nice being out with the rest of his family. Kakuji and Yahaba talk about their jobs and the video games they like. Apparently Kakuji is a computer technician who works with programming on the side, he's engaged to a nice woman with a daughter from a previous relationship, and they've recently had a son. He feels like his mom had mentioned that before, but he didn't really care to pay attention to anything involving his brothers before.

It's weird when Yahaba and Kakuji exchange contact information. His mother seems pleased that they're getting along and Kyoutani thinks he might feel the same way.

Kyoutani slips away to pay the bill so that his mother doesn't have to. He's not expecting to bump into Masae on her way out.

“You two didn't take long to hook up.”

He really didn't miss her mouth.

“You didn't wait at all.”

She flips her hair at him with a _“humph!”_ before following her group of girlfriends out the door.

He wonders what she's seen, but doesn't think much more about it after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random fact; it took me like two hours to name Kyoutani's dogs but it takes like 60 seconds to name everyone else. And it took me about 5 minutes to regret giving the Kyoutani boys all K names.
> 
> ALSO fair warning. I think I've lost my beta so there will probably be more typos from here out.
> 
>  **EDIT Dec 11, 2017:** The changes made in the edit: Yahaba moves in with Kyoutani the final week of April instead of the first week. Mother's Day is on a fucking Sunday in May like it says on the god damn Google that I apparently misread SOMEHOW and they move Junko in Monday, May the 15th. Basically they get an extra month of dating before moving in together so it WORKS BETTER.


	11. Thanks, Sora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're officially invited to Kakuji’s wedding. Yahaba won't let Kyoutani know he's eager to see him in a tuxedo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a mistake with my notes and was confused on when Mother's Day was. So anyone who read Chapter 10 before I fixed it on Dec 11, the fixed changes are all pretty much in the opening scene, but if you don't wanna read that then:
> 
> Yahaba moves in the final week of April instead of the first. Mother's Day is Sunday May 14 and they move Junko in the next day on a Monday.
> 
> Which makes things a little less scrunched together, thank fuck.
> 
> Finally, if you haven't listened to [The Gambler](https://youtu.be/rT-5NY83OYI) by fun I suggest you do so now.

The first time there were bruises left on Yahaba he had been riding Kyoutani on a lazy Sunday morning. Yahaba had been setting the pace, in no big hurry, but things seemed to escalate quickly with them and in no time at all Kyoutani was pounding up into him, hands gripping his hips like he wasn't sure he'd still be there if he let go. It left perfectly shaped bruises on his flesh, ten streaks that Kyoutani could neatly fit his fingers against.

They were nothing like the bruises Masae would leave.

After Kyoutani had seen what he'd done he spent the rest of the day sulking in shame. Yahaba told him he didn't mind, because he really didn't, but Kyoutani continued to follow him around with his head down, leaning against him in silent apologies.

“I don't want to hurt you,” Kyoutani had told him, rubbing where the marks were through the fabric of Yahaba's pants.

Yahaba had smiled at him, kissing him gently. “You didn't hurt me. Promise I'll tell you if you ever do, okay? And you tell me, too.”

It wasn't something either of them needed to verbally agree on, they already knew that, but it seemed to be what Kyoutani needed to hear. The blond nodded his agreement.

“Besides, I kind of liked it…”

Which wasn't a lie. They didn't really hurt, which made them barely different from hickies. Just temporary reminders across his skin that someone wanted him so badly they didn't want to let go.

Kyoutani still seemed hesitant after that, but it didn't take long for him to trust that Yahaba was being truthful.

The first time Kyoutani saw him cry since moving in was a bit more difficult. There had been times when Yahaba needed to be alone, to close himself off in his room and sleep by himself. Kyoutani was concerned, but left the brunette to himself while making sure to remind Yahaba that he was there if he needed him.

Kyoutani wasn't pushy, but Yahaba felt guilty nonetheless.

Sometimes he just didn't want to be around anyone, sometimes he felt so overwhelmed with anxiety he needed the solitude, and sometimes it ended in tears.

He hadn't expected it to happen in Kyoutani's embrace, but it had been a  gentle moment in bed where they were going at it tender and slow. It made him feel light as air, but also gave him too much time to think.

He remembered when he and Masae had been like this, so long ago at the beginning of their relationship, how much he had loved her and how badly she had treated him for it. He thought about how he had been stringing Kyoutani along like plan b and how much he must have hurt the man he loved.

_Am I really any better than Masae?_

He couldn't help but wonder if Kyoutani would regret this, if he would get tired of his shit. What if he finds someone better? Someone younger? Someone more attractive who was hotter in bed? Someone who could cook for him every night and wouldn't run away to the other room because he couldn't cope with his overwhelming feelings?

Yahaba had felt himself shaking underneath of Kyoutani, his hands trembling as he held onto the other’s shoulders with desperation. Kyoutani had stilled to ask what was wrong, but when he tried to pull away to look the brunette over, Yahaba wouldn't let him. Once the first sob escaped, the flood gates were open.

Kyoutani had gently flipped them over so that Yahaba could lay against his chest, sobbing into the crook of his neck. He'd realized Yahaba wouldn't answer him, so he held him tight until he could speak.

“D-d-d...d-don’t leave…don't l-leave…”

“I'm here, babe, I'm not leaving.”

Yahaba continued on, pleading until his throat was raw and he was out of tears. He had still refused to show his face, so they continued to lay there, Yahaba occasionally shaking with silent sobs.

Kyoutani had began humming a tune, something upbeat and vaguely familiar.

 

 _“Slow down, we've got time left to be lazy,_  
_All the kids have bloomed from babies into flowers in our eyes._  
_We've got fifty good years left to spend out in the garden,_  
_I don't care to beg your pardon, w_ _e should live until we die.”_

 

Yahaba had never heard Kyoutani sing before. It was rough and scratchy and he wasn't the best at holding a tune, but the way his chest rumbled and his deep voice washed over Yahaba, he wanted to cry all over again, overwhelmed with fondness.

  
_“We were barely 18 when we crossed collective hearts._  
_It was cold, but it got warm when you barely crossed my eye._  
_And then you turned, put out your hand, a_ _nd you asked me to dance._ _  
I knew nothing of romance, but it was love at second sight.”_

 

He stumbled over verses, pausing between lines so that he could translate the lyrics into something coherent that Yahaba could understand.

  
_“I swear when I grow up, I won't just buy you a rose._  
_I will buy the flower shop, and you will never be lonely._  
_Even if the sun stopped waking up over the fields,_  
_I will not leave, I will not leave till it's our time._  
_So just take my hand, you know that I will never leave your side.”_

 

The exhaustion from his breakdown was enough to have him nodding off to Kyoutani's voice.

 

* * *

 

At the end of May Yahaba sees his doctor again. It's late enough for Kyoutani to be lounging around the living room after work. Yahaba had been debating having a talk since the crying-during-sex incident the week prior.

When Yahaba sits down next to Kyoutani, he must have a look because the blond instantly tenses up.

“Can we talk?” Kyoutani sets down the book he had been reading, leaning over to squeeze Yahaba's thigh. “This, uh...this is hard to say…” The words are stuck in his throat and it feels like it takes an eternity before he can continue, but Kyoutani waits patiently. “I'm seeing my doctor again tonight. And. I think you probably already guessed what it's about, but I wanted to tell you myself. I, uh, have been seeing a psychiatrist.”

Kyoutani's expression doesn't change, but he does reach for Yahaba's hand, squeezing gently.

“It's been...something Tooru suggested for a while, but I was ashamed to think I needed help. My...therapist has diagnosed me with mild depression and anxiety…” He can't bring himself to look Kyoutani in the eyes, and he knows it's stupid, but he can't glance back up no matter how hard he tries. “I've started taking medication for anxiety, but I'm not sure yet how much it's helping…”

“And for the depression?”

“We both thought it would be best to try talk therapy since she thinks it's mild.”

Kyoutani nods, his eyebrows coming together in a thoughtful scowl.

“How many times have you been?”

“Three times. I'm leaving soon for the fourth time.” He's flooded with relief regardless of the fact that he _knew_ there was nothing to actually worry about. Kyoutani was a lot like his mother; thoughtful and understanding. “I really like my therapist.” Kyoutani nods to show he's still listening, but it's obvious that he's deep in thought. “What're...you thinking, Ken?”

Their eyes lock and there's an intensity in his amber eyes as though he could solve all of Yahaba's problems if he looked at him hard enough.

“What do you need me to do? To help you.”

Yahaba can't help but smile at him. “There's nothing more you can do. You've done everything perfectly already.”

Kyoutani flushes from the praise, averting his eyes to grumble something that faintly sounds like _“your mom.”_

“Though, I think...I’d like if you came with me tonight…”

He's not surprised when Kyoutani agrees easily and riding there on a motorcycle is much more pleasant than taking the subway. He can't help the anxious feeling in his gut, but knows that it will go away once they're actually being seen.

Dr. Tsukuda is pleased to see Kyoutani has joined them and after she has Yahaba recount his life since he was last here a month ago, she turns her attention to the blond. She asks him how he thinks Yahaba is doing, how he seems to be adjusting to a new living environment and how Kyoutani is handling sharing his home with someone else.

Kyoutani admits that he was worried Yahaba wouldn't adjust, that he'd spend a few weeks there and realize he had made a mistake. It's similar to Yahaba's fear that Kyoutani would realize he didn't want Yahaba in his home invading his space.

“I think having our own rooms helps. If he doesn't want to be around anyone, he disappears into his room until he's feeling better. Sometimes I go to bed alone but wake up with him there.”

“And does any of that bother you?”

“Nah. I mean, I get it. I don't like to be around people, either, but I'm like that all the time. It's different with Shigeru, though. We were together a lot before he moved in, but now we're together all the time. I don't mind it. If he pisses me off, I just go to the gym, or go to my room. And so far it works. I'd be pretty upset if he decided to leave.”

Dr. Tsukuda turns back to Yahaba with a knowing smile. “Does that set you at ease any?”

“Yeah.” Yahaba casts his eyes downward, sheepish that he'd ever worried about being a burden on Kyoutani. “I knew it was stupid to worry. Ken won't do anything if he doesn't actually want to do it, but still…”

“It's not stupid to feel anxious. We can never truly be sure how things will go. But with anxiety disorders, you'll stress more than the average person, sometimes about the most trivial of things.”

It feels good to talk out his problems with someone and he's upset with himself for taking so long to do it. It's also nice to open up to Kyoutani about concerns he knew were only results of his anxiety and get confirmation that he's not being a bother.

On the way home they take the long way, enjoying the jacket weather and the city lights.

Back at home, he pulls Kyoutani close to kiss him, a smile on his lips.

“I love you.”

Kyoutani’s eyes widen at him and his face quickly begins to flush. He doesn’t seem off-put, but he also doesn’t rush to reply. Yahaba knows they’ve said it before, in other situations with different context, but it’s different now. Everything is different now.

Kyoutani seems uncomfortable, like he’s trying to say something that his body won’t let him. But Yahaba just smiles at him, leaning in for another kiss. Kyoutani doesn’t like saying more than he needs to, and right now he doesn’t need to say anything. Yahaba knows how he feels, and he can say it when he’s ready to.

Yahaba’s still worried about the future, but he feels more confident that things will be okay.

 

* * *

 

The first weekend in June Oikawa decides that Yahaba and Kyoutani's “honeymoon” is over and that it's about time they have visitors. Yahaba knows it's code for “I've never been permitted to enter Kyoutani's apartment and the curiosity has been killing me.” Kyoutani isn't happy about the idea of having Oikawa and company in his house, but, as always, tells Yahaba to do whatever the fuck he wants.

The apartment is bigger than Yahaba's last place was, so there's more than enough room for everyone, including the additional visitors.

It's a relief to see Oikawa and Iwaizumi back to their old selves after spending the better part of the last month fighting. Even Yaku, who hardly goes to any gathering and spends the majority of his time closed off, is chatting away with Kyoutani in the kitchen, telling him about some...really tall Russian guy? Yahaba doesn't have time to worry about what goes on in Oikawa's work building.

Hanamaki is more upbeat than usual, excited about a handsome baker he's been pestering relentlessly.

For some reason Futakuchi shows up even though Oikawa swears up and down he didn't invite him, but he brought alcohol so nobody really wants to turn him away.

Terushima is more chipper than usual, but his smile is strained and he's distracted all night. Yahaba makes a note to ask about it later.

Other than that, it's a good time, Yahaba thinks. He doesn't understand how he and Kyoutani keep winding up in the bathtub ( _“You_ insist _on it, Shigeru.” “Lies.”_ ) but he won't complain.

 

* * *

 

Things go well for a while. Yahaba thinks his medicine is beginning to help, and he tries talking more with Kyoutani instead of hiding when he feels overwhelmed.

They see Junko often now that she's a ten minute drive away. They would see her more, but she insists she doesn't want to monopolize their time. It's still nice having her around the shop, helping out where she can and taking an interest in her son's profession.

They see Kakuji a few times as well; his wife is a round little woman with glasses so thick they make her eyes look huge. She's friendly and chipper with a dry sense of humor and she and Kyoutani get along fairly well. Her daughter is loud but kind hearted and draws them crayon pictures. She asks when they're going to get married and if they can do it at Chuck E Cheese so they can play afterward (her parents already shot down the idea for their upcoming wedding. Yahaba doesn't have the heart to inform her that they can't actually get married, so he tells her they'll think about it).

They're officially invited to Kakuji’s wedding. Yahaba won't let Kyoutani know he's eager to see him in a tuxedo.

Even work is going surprisingly well lately. There are a lot of students in his classes this year that seem to really like him, and he thinks that this is the best school year he's probably ever had. The student who was given a giant bear on Valentine's Day seems to be at war with his girlfriend to see who can make who have to carry around the more embarrassing gift all day. His girlfriend is definitely winning, and Yahaba has a nice little series on his Instagram to document his demise.

The science teacher that had been relentlessly hitting on him finally gets the hint. She doesn't stop by any means, but she's at least not bothering him at any chance she gets. It's a nice change in pace, he thinks.

Things take a turn after that. In the middle of June Yahaba is being dragged down the street by a panicked Kyoutani. Yahaba himself isn't doing much better.

The last thing he expected to see was Maruyama on a lunch date with some snooty looking business man. He thought maybe he was a friend or colleague, but when the guy leaned in to kiss her and she didn't pull away, the only thing keeping Yahaba standing in place was shock.

Maru had glanced over as though she could feel his eyes on her, and the fact that her deadpan expression didn't falter once their eyes locked was what snapped him out of it.

Kyoutani was pulling him away before he could storm across downtown traffic and cuss her out, his grip desperately tight.

“Kentarou, what the fuck?!” Kyoutani doesn't let go until he's pulled him into an empty alley. Yahaba can’t help but assume Kyoutani knew about whatever the fuck they just stumbled upon, so he rounds on him as soon as he’s let go of. “Tell me what’s going on here! Why is Maruyama-san cheating on Shinji and why are you so calm about it?!”

Kyoutani’s eyebrows are drawn tight, his mouth pressed together in a tight line. He looks Yahaba over like he’s not sure how to approach the situation.

“She’s not cheating on him.”

“Like hell she’s not!”

“Look.” Kyoutani grabs him gently by the hands. “Maru has a fiance. They’ve been engaged since before she met Watari. It was something her parents set up, she doesn’t have a choice right now.”

Yahaba shakes his head, still confused about how any of this is okay. “Does Shinji know about this?” Kyoutani gives him a short nod. “And he’s just _okay_ with this? What the fuck! Why wouldn’t he tell me something like this?!”

Kyoutani lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a sigh, rubbing at his short hair. “Watari didn’t tell you because he knew you’d freak out about it.”

“Of course I would! She’s two timing him!”

“ _She’s not cheating on Watari_ ,” he hisses. Kyoutani seems to be at the end of his patience for this particular subject by the way his eyes narrow and his jaw tenses. Yahaba’s only a few inches taller, but he does his best to use that as he glares down at the blond. “I told you, she doesn’t have a choice.”

“Like fuck she doesn’t!”

“Shigeru, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you were able to cut off ties with your parents, but she hasn’t been able to do that yet. And let me tell you, the Maruyamas are fucking scum. Hikaru has been on a diet since she was, like, ten because her parents don’t want her to get fat.” There’s only inches between them and both of them are tense like they’re ready to start swinging. Yahaba knows neither of them will actually hit the other, but it fuels his anger regardless. “So if they want her engaged to that shit bag, guess what. She doesn’t get a choice!”

“So, what, she keeps Watari around as her side piece?!”

Kyoutani grits his teeth.

“She’s _working_ on it.”

“ _She’s working on it_ ,” he parrots. He knows he’s sounding more and more like an asshole, but it’s too much to learn about all at once.

“Yes. She’ll be free in a few months, alright?! But guess what, it’s none of your fucking business!”

Yahaba straightens up, looking down at Kyoutani with a sneer. “He’s my best friend, so that makes it my business.”

“Well he sure didn’t tell you, so no, it doesn’t.”

Yahaba stands there, mouth open to retort, but Kyoutani is right and that hurts in it’s own way. His best friend didn’t think he could trust him with the details of his relationship, and he had to find out on accident. His boyfriend has apparently known the entire time but never said anything about it, either.

Yahaba closes his mouth, turning on his heel to leave.

“Shigeru!”

Kyoutani grabs for his wrist, but Yahaba yanks it away. When he storms off, Kyoutani lets him go, and he walks and walks until he doesn’t recognize where he’s at anymore. He knows he’s being childish and probably selfish, but he really needs to clear his head before he says something to Kyoutani he might not be able to take back. He texts Watari to call him as soon as possible. He’s sitting at a park bench for a bit before his phone finally rings.

“I saw Maruyama-san with her fiance,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

There’s a heavy sigh from the other end of the line. “Yeah. I know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Watari goes quiet, his steady breathing the only indication that he’s still there. “I...wasn’t sure what you’d think. And I was worried you’d think less of her for it.”

“What does it matter what I think?”

“Of course it matters! You’re my best friend, dude. I like her a lot, and I want you to like her too. This, uh, wasn’t how I wanted it brought up…” There’s another silence. Yahaba’s not quite sure what to say now that it’s all out. “You don’t like her now, do you?”

“It’s not...that I don’t like her.” He bites his lip as he attempts to sort his thoughts. “She’s just so...I don’t know, it’s just weird to me that someone so peppy and nice like you could actually date someone as critical and closed-off as she is…you’re both so different.”

Watari actually snorts at that.

“I’m sorry...you just moved in with Kyoutani Kentarou, your opposite, and _you_ think that _my_ relationship is strange.” Yahaba wants to retort, to point out the ways in which they are very similar, but his mind is drawing a blank. “And Hikaru is closed-off? You do realize she and Kyoutani are pretty similar, right? You seem to be the only person alive who knows if Kyoutani’s actually upset of it it’s just his face.”

“I...I want to argue with you…”

“Oh, Shigeru.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay, I’m not upset with you.” Yahaba groans dramatically, hiding his hand in his face. “I am sorry, though, that I didn’t tell you...it’s just such a weird situation, right?”

He nods despite the fact that Watari can’t see him.

“Have you...met him…?”

“Sosuke-san? Yeah, that guy is a grade a asshole. Hikaru would have probably murdered him already if she thought she could get away with it.”

“How…?”

“He almost caught us fooling around. It was such a rush, like being a teenager again.” Watari laughs, his regular, warm laugh that lets Yahaba know there’s no hard feelings. “I am sorry, though. I should have told you.”

“No...I’m sorry. It...wasn’t any of my business.”

Watari hums. “It is nice now that it’s out, though. Where’s Kyoutani, by the way? Hikaru said he was with you.”

Yahaba groans, running his hand down his face.

“Did you yell at him?”

“A little, yeah…”

“Ahh...well, go say sorry. He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah...sorry again, Shinji.”

They say their goodbyes and Yahaba sits in the park for a bit longer watching the birds. He’s calmed down from earlier, but now there’s an anxious feeling sitting in his stomach. He and Kyoutani hadn’t had a real fight in some time, and he feels like an asshole for picking a fight over something that he didn’t actually understand. He still doesn’t quite get it, how Watari is content being with someone who's engaged, but it really was none of his business.

If Watari is happy, he should be happy for him.

He just wishes someone had at least let him in on it.

He considers giving Kyoutani a call, or maybe sending him a text, but thinks better of it. On the way home he stops by a convenience store for famima chicken, getting plenty for Kyoutani as a peace offering. At home, Kyoutani’s door is closed and he can hear the stereo through the walls. He sets up the rice cooker and teapot and fixes a tray once it’s all done.

He’s not entirely surprised that there’s no answer when he knocks on the door. Kyoutani’s laying backwards in his bed staring at the ceiling, but his eyes flick over to Yahaba when the door opens. The brunette sets the tray down next to him and leans down to peck his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Yahaba goes to bed alone that night, but when he wakes up the next morning there are warm arms around him.

 

* * *

 

The atmosphere at work seems to shift unexpectedly at the end of June. One day, things are normal and he can go about his business without any issues, then the next students are sending looks his way, sneaking glances, and it suddenly feels like everyone is talking about him behind his back. Even fellow employees begin to avoid him, and that's the point where he's sure it's not the anxiety playing tricks on him.

When some of his favorite students begin to shy away from him is when it becomes a bit overwhelming.

When groups of girls begin following him around and watching him hungrily, he's so fucking confused he wants to flip a table and scream.

When lunch comes around he's surprised to see Sora, the student at war with his girlfriend, running up to him. Sora glances around before beckoning him to follow. He leads them to an empty stairwell, and it's so bizarre for him that Yahaba's at the end of his patience.

“Do you know about the picture?” is the first thing he says. Yahaba gives him an odd look causing Sora to curse under his breath. He pulls out his phone and Yahaba doesn't think he's ever seen the boy look so tense. “This is why everyone is acting weird today…”

Sora holds up his phone and it's all the explanation that's needed. Yahaba's glad he hasn't eaten yet, because he's not sure he could hold anything down right now.

It's a screenshot of his private Instagram and the photo featured is none other than the single picture he has uploaded of him and Kyoutani kissing. He had only uploaded it the day before.

Sora seems startled when Yahaba bursts into laughter, but he just can't help it. Admittedly, they hadn't been the most cautious, stealing kisses in public and holding hands when they just couldn't bring themselves to give a fuck. But the thing that gives them away is the one thing that should have been safe.

Yahaba really wants to cry.

“Haba-sensei?”

“How did you even…?”

Sora shrugs. “It just started going around last night.” He pauses to look Yahaba over cautiously. “It's real, isn't it?”

He considers lying, but at this point there's no need to. If everyone's seen the photo, there's not much he could do to argue against it.

“Yeah.”

“Is he…?”

“He's my boyfriend, yeah.”

Sora is quiet for a long moment, the gears in his head turning so hard Yahaba can practically hear it.

“It’s not illegal.” Yahaba has to give him a look before he continues. “It's not illegal, and it's not like you were caught with a student. So they can't do anything to you, can they?”

Sora seems unsure yet determined.

“Well, it would be illegal to fire me over this specifically, but there's nothing to stop them from saying whatever they need to if they decide I'm no longer welcome here.” Sora visibly deflates at the thought. “Thank you, though.”

The student raises an eyebrow at him. “For what?”

“For...your concern. And not treating me any differently.”

Sora is quiet for a moment before shaking his head.

“There's nothing wrong with it. You're still my favorite teacher. Don't worry, if anything happens I'll…I'll do something.”

Yahaba smiles at him, though he knows it probably doesn't reach his eyes. Sora is a good kid, and though Yahaba isn't hopeful for whatever comes next, he's at least grateful to know that his student cares so much about him.

Yahaba is expecting it when the principal sends for him at the end of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird to think that we're coming up on the ending. I wasn't sure how to write half of this chapter, so I hope it reads well enough.


	12. Thanks, Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s alright, Shige-kun.” Junko stands up with a heavy sigh. “I'll go get dinner.” Yahaba nods solemnly, squeezing her shoulder like he's sending her off for the last time. “If anything happens, just know I love you like a son, but more than my actual sons because they're all a bunch of assholes.”
> 
> “I wish we had more time together for me to treat you with the respect you deserve. I love you, too, mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief smut, you'll know it when you see it.

Life will never be perfect, and that's fine, Kyoutani can live with that. He's had his fair share of struggles and helped his friends through their own. Tears, screams, smacks, calls at 3 am asking if he's busy, sneaking into windows and hiding in closets. He almost got run over once when Kuroo’s cousin was in some shit, but he'd do it all over again without regrets. Life isn't supposed to be prefect, and the struggles all make the good times that much more enjoyable.

Yahaba, though. Kyoutani would give everything he has to make sure Yahaba's life is perfect. It's why he can never stay mad at him for very long. It's why he'd drop anything if he thought Yahaba needed him.

He knows he's got it bad. He'd never admit it out loud, but he's accepted it all the same.

Oikawa calls him a guard dog. Kyoutani hates it, but it's true.

He knows that, technically, Yahaba isn't a perfect being, nobody really is. He's petty and spiteful, aggressive and snappy. He'll remember something you did wrong by him for years and sometimes his smile means nothing but trouble.

But he really is perfect, as sappy and disgusting as it is. Kyoutani loves every part of him, even the parts that hurt. He'll do anything he has to do to make sure Yahaba is safe and happy and that his life is as perfect as it needs to be, even when Yahaba is the one to soil it. It doesn't matter. Kyoutani will still be there.

There are times, though, when shit happens that is out of anyone's control.

Like today, when Yahaba came home early in tears, two of the students from the school accompanying him with grim looks on their faces. Kyoutani felt panicked, and Yahaba wouldn't answer him. He just grabbed onto Kyoutani and cried into his shoulder. He looked frantically to the teenagers.

The boy who spoke was rather short with a lazy face, though his eyebrows were drawn together in frustration. “One of his Instagram pictures got leaked and spread all around the school. And...he got fired.”

“It's not fair!” The girl stomps her foot, her fists clenched at her sides. She looks like she wants to say more, but the boy grabs her by the wrist.

“Please take care of our sensei.”

The boy bows his head. Kyoutani barely manages to thank them for bringing Yahaba home before they're out the door again, a look of determination on their faces.

At least some of the students aren't assholes, he thinks.

Yachi, bless her heart, nudges them up the stairs with promises that she'll be okay and call Kiyoko soon so that Kyoutani has nothing to worry about. But there's suddenly a lot to worry about.

Yahaba would be fine, that wasn't really a question. Kyoutani made enough that he could support them both if he had to, and he would do so without a second thought. But Yahaba was proud and independent and he wouldn't take help lightly. This was also a huge blow in general to his already compromised mental health.

He had been doing so well lately, too.

Up in the apartment Kyoutani leads Yahaba to the couch, unbuckling the brunette’s belt and removing his pants before he sits. He goes to get a t-shirt for him to lounge in, and exchanging the shirts is like dressing a life size doll.

Yahaba doesn’t want to talk about it, the students told him everything he really needed to know, so Kyoutani spends the night laying on the couch with him, running his fingers through his hair while they watch some ghost hunting show on Netflix. Yahaba doesn’t want to let him go long enough to make dinner, so they order in instead from the Korean place down the street and Yachi is nice enough to bring it up to them.

Dai must sense Yahaba’s distress because he spends the entire night laying as close as possible to Yahaba from the floor.

Kyoutani wakes up the next morning like normal, turning off any alarms that may be set for Yahaba so that he can continue to sleep, and goes to work. When he unlocks the doors at 9 am Yahaba is waiting for him at the counter when he turns around. His face is still fairly blank and he doesn’t seem to be able to look at Kyoutani in the eyes, but he looks like he wants to talk regardless.

He brings up finances, and Kyoutani isn’t surprised that it’s the first thing he’s worried about, and he’s even less surprised when Yahaba hates the idea of Kyoutani providing for him for the time being. He reminds the brunette that he can work at the flower shop or for Oikawa if he wants immediate work, and he reluctantly agrees to stay in the shop.

It’ll be difficult for a while, they spend most of their time after work together, and it’s obvious that they’re both worried about now spending _too_ much time together, but Kyoutani thinks they can manage. He can split shifts with Yahaba until he’s able to properly work him into a schedule. The brunette may not be very good at flower arranging, but he’s charming and good with customers (older women love him) and knows how to work the computer software.

It’s going to be fine.

Yahaba is despondent for a few days, but having something to do with his time seems to at least help a little. He finally talks to Kyoutani about what he’s feeling, and it ends in tears, but he seems to feel better afterwards.

Terushima convinces Yahaba to join him for a few days for a modeling gig, and Kyoutani has to reassure himself that nothing could possibly go wrong between the two. Yaku will be there, after all.

Yaku can’t babysit the two because his new assistant seems to be a full time job all on his own.

Kyoutani gets a lot of Snaps, each more concerning than the last, though he can’t really describe in which way they’re disturbing when there are pictures of his boyfriend and ex boyfriend sampling underwear together crossing his screen. They must be drinking and he knows Yahaba will be mortified once he sees _Kyoutani Kentarou took a screenshot_ in his notifications at least a million times. Normally he’d be ready to murder any man who laid his hands on Yahaba, but he’ll give Terushima a free pass this time.

Yahaba, who hardly ever blushes, is pink for a while after returning home, refusing to acknowledge Kyoutani until he deletes the screenshots.

Kyoutani doesn’t.

Yahaba gets over it.

Kyoutani is pleasantly surprised when Yahaba pins him to the apartment door at the end of the work day. They haven’t fooled around at all since the school incident two weeks ago and the knee between his thighs is more than welcome.

Yahaba kisses him forcefully, and he already knows how this is going to go.

“I missed you,” he breathes through kisses.

Kyoutani pulls him closer, one fist clenched into his brown hair while the other hand finds its way under his shirt. Yahaba's been gone less than seven days but with the way his tongue is claiming the blond’s mouth he'd think it would have been longer.

God, Kyoutani missed him.

Yahaba's palms run down Kyoutani's back to knead at his ass and _yes_ it will indeed be _that_ kind of night.

“Ken. Bed.”

They don't let go immediately, Kyoutani finishes sucking a fresh hickey into Yahaba's collarbone while the brunette continues to grope him.

Yahaba backs off and the blond wastes no time getting to the bedroom, pulling off his clothes along the way. Any other night he'd make Yahaba work for it, but it's been a stressful two weeks. Since Yahaba's moved in they haven't gone more than two or three days without fooling around, let alone two damn weeks. He's ready for this yesterday.

Yahaba, the bastard, takes his time coming in like they've got all the time in the world. It's mostly true, but Kyoutani is already hard and naked. He missed Yahaba and those Snapchats didn't make it any better.

The brunette pulls his shirt off with a smirk. “Eager?”

Kyoutani scowls as Yahaba takes his time getting out of the reset of his clothes. The blond pulls Yahaba over top of himself on the bed, lips meeting eagerly, and the brunette chuckles into it. When Kyoutani slides the lube into the other's hand, Yahaba actually snorts. He doesn’t mention it, though, just takes the bottle as he nips at Kyoutani’s lips.

Soon, Yahaba is working him open with his slender fingers, rubbing his walls and teasing his prostate like he’s living off of Kyoutani’s moans. They don’t switch it up like this often, but it’s a nice change when they do. Yahaba seems to dictate most of their bedroom life, anyway, but this takes it to the next level.

When he’s tired of being teased, he pushes Yahaba away so that he can turn around on his hands and knees. He fixes the brunette with a glare over his shoulder, daring him to draw this out any longer. Yahaba grabs the condom that was set out on the bedside table and takes a moment to appreciate the view before sliding in. The intrusion is more than welcome, Kyoutani rocking back to meet Yahaba’s hips. He thrusts in with a steady pace, hand sliding up and down the florist’s broad back appreciatively, feeling the muscles tense and relax as his fingers linger over the lines of the flowered wolf tattooed there. Yahaba has seen every inch of his skin and could probably draw all of his tattoos from memory if he had the artistic skill for it, but he never seems to get bored of looking.

“Ken…” Yahaba hums, his hands coming up to rest at the small of Kyoutani’s back. “If I died, what-- _mmm_ \--what tattoo would you get for me?”

Kyoutani knows he’s talking about the bluebells tattooed on his neck. He thrusts a bit harder when Kyoutani finally opens his mouth to speak, causing him to moan through what was supposed to be an answer. He clenches around his cock in retaliation.

“Get one of those cats on my stomach...ah...where the belly button looks like the asshole because that’s what you a- _AAAHHFUUUCK-!_ ”

Yahaba thrusts in again, this time hitting his prostate with an unnecessary amount of force. He stops to make sure Kyoutani is okay.

“Fuck.” Kyoutani can’t help but laugh into the pillow, shoulders shaking from the force. Yahaba follows soon after.

“You’re such an asshole…It’s so weird...I can feel you laugh through my dick…”

They both laugh even harder at that, Yahaba bowing over to rest his forehead between the blond’s shoulders.

Hearing Yahaba laugh is nice, especially after how things have been going lately. Kyoutani knows they’ll be okay.

 

* * *

 

Yahaba isn’t okay, but he’s doing everything that he needs to do to make sure he will be once the dust settles. He’s making sure to talk to Kyoutani about how he’s feeling, and though he only manages to do it some days, it makes him feel immensely better. He has an appointment with Dr. Tsukuda in two weeks and he knows he can make it until then. He’s not surprised that Kyoutani is just as patient and supportive as always, but he’s doing his best not to put too much strain on the blond. It’s not his responsibility to hold Yahaba up all on his own, but that feels like the case more often than not. He tries to get out of the shop as often as possible so that Kyoutani can have some time to himself, but he also feels guilty for imposing on Oikawa who already has a hard enough time with his own work.

Watari invites him to hang out at Hanamaki’s tattoo parlour and it’s a nice change in pace. There’s nothing much to do besides chat with the artists, but Hanamaki and his crew are a lively bunch who keep the jokes flowing. It’s also interesting to watch them make masterpieces against people’s skin. He wonders what Kyoutani would look like with tattoos down his legs, as well.

Yahaba might have a problem.

He thinks back to the question he asked Kyoutani just the other day; it wasn’t entirely hypothetical, Yahaba would love to have something permanently etched into Kyoutani’s tanned skin as a reminder that he’s taken. Something that says _Property of Yahaba Shigeru_.

He’s not possessive, _you’re_ possessive.

Alright, he’s possessive. In his defense, he’s never felt so strongly about anyone before. From the moment their eyes first met he felt an odd sense of _want_. Kyoutani was like a dream come true, like God thought _“You’ve been a pretty good guy, Shigeru, here you go”_ and made Kyoutani just for him.

Yahaba definitely has a problem.

He's pretty sure he's not the only one, though. Kyoutani isn't exactly subtle. Which is why he's batting his eyelashes at him now from the other side of the counter. It's late enough that the sun's setting and the shop is long closed. Junko just arrived after her own work day ended and when Yahaba suggested take out from one of their favorite little hole-in-the-wall restaurants several blocks away, she eagerly agreed. The only issue is they don't deliver and it's roughly a forty minute trip there and back by foot. But on a bike it might only take fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.

Yahaba doesn't want to go and Junko is tired from work. Kyoutani looks between their pleading faces and he's scowling so hard Yahaba can already imaging the wrinkles he's going to have within the next twenty years.

Kyoutani very obviously doesn't want to go out, but as he's the only one with any motorized vehicle he's put on the spot.

Yahaba smiles so brightly he hopes it hurts Kyoutani's eyes.

“It’s alright, Shige-kun.” Junko stands up with a heavy sigh. “I'll go get dinner. My hip has been acting up, though, so don't send the search party until I'm at least an hour late.” Yahaba nods solemnly, squeezing her shoulder like he's sending her off for the last time. “If anything happens, just know I love you like a son, but more than my actual sons because they're all a bunch of assholes.”

“I wish we had more time together for me to treat you with the respect you deserve. I love you, too, mom.”

Kyoutani's chair scrapes against the floor as he pushes away from the counter forcefully, an exaggerated groan leaving his mouth. He points back to his mother's chair, scowling down at her (she barely clears his collarbone, apparently he gets his height from his father).

“Sit the fuck down, woman.”

“Oh, what a good boy!” Junko’s eyes get just as squinty as Kyoutani's do when she smiles, Yahaba's noticed. She reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “My baby is such a gentleman~”

He flips Yahaba off when the brunette laughs him.

Yahaba pulls him in for a kiss over the counter. “Don't fuck up my order, hun.”

“Don't be such an asshole, _sweetheart_.”

Kyoutani grabs his helmet from the back room and then he's off to fight through Friday evening traffic. It's comfortable sitting around with Junko, none of the awkwardness present that he'd feel around most people her age or older. It's been satisfying having her in his life in a way he didn't think possible; the idea that some people have decent parents is a bizarre one, at best, despite the fact that he's known several of them. It's different when one is projecting her love and acceptance onto him with such sincerity.

He's a grown ass adult who pays taxes and keeps up with politics, but whenever she smiles proudly at him, he feels twice as pleased with whatever he's done.

But right now she's smirking and he can see so much of Kyoutani in her (or maybe the other way around?) so of course he's smiling, too.

When she grabs his hand, her face softens back into something motherly.

“You're holding up alright, aren't you, sweetie?”

He nods at her, relieved that she doesn't ask for details.

Instead, she tells him about her new job and how everyone there is out to destroy everyone else and how she's doing well making her way to the top of the food chain.

Yahaba laughs at her bloodthirsty grin. “Careful you don't make too many enemies.”

“I'm not worried, sugar, mama keeps a knife on ‘er at all times.”

She doesn't sound like she's joking, and Yahaba can easily believe it. It helps when she pulls a six inch knife out of her boot to show him as though it's a normal, everyday thing.

The knife is put away and conversation resumes. Junko seems fond of her neighbors and though Tokyo is very different from Miyagi, she's not regretting coming back.

The bell on the door chimes behind them. Junko turns in her seat to tell the newcomer that the shop is closed, but she only gets half of the sentence out. Yahaba turns to see what the problem is, his heart rate spiking at the thought that something might be wrong.

He almost wished it were a robber.

Satan would have been a more welcome sight than his father standing at the door, his perfectly tailored suit crisp and spotless. His cold eyes are focused on Yahaba as though Junko doesn't exist.

Junko immediately picks up on the tension, though the family resemblance makes it easy to pick this man out as his father.

“The shop is closed. You should leave.”

Iehero’s eyes find Junko at Yahaba's side and he looks her over, regarding her as though she were beneath him.

In his mind, everyone is beneath him.

“I'm here to see my son.”

Junko slides off her seat like she's about to approach him, but Yahaba grabs her elbow, his grip tighter than he means it to be. She glances at him, but doesn't make to move.

Yahaba feels frozen in his seat, his body refusing his brain’s order to move. It's been two years since he's last seen his father and it's as though nothing about him has changed.

Neither has his effect on Yahaba, it seems.

“Why are you here?” His voice sounds entirely too loud in his own ears. It's a surprise to himself when he manages to step off of his stool, his movements unnatural, almost robotic. “How...do you even know about this place…?”

His voice wavers and he wants to throw up, ashamed of showing any form of weakness in front of this man.

There's a warm hand at the small of his back to remind him that he's not alone.

“Your sister has recently shared some disturbing photos with me. You've always been a bit of a disappointment, but this is a new low, even for you.”

It's suddenly impossible to look Iehero in the eyes. There are so many things that Yahaba wants to say, to scream, but his jaw aches and his throat feels tight. He's not a child anymore. He doesn't rely on his father financially and he's even grown taller than the man by several inches.

He still feels like that same child sitting silently at the table under his father's scrutinizing gaze, not a hair out of place for fear of punishment.

Iehero steps further into the shop, cold gaze observing the odds and ends, running over the potted plants and vases to the local goods displays.

“This is how you spend your time, playing around with gang members in a shabby little shop.”

“Now hold on.” Junko steps forward. Yahaba wants to pull her back, but his arm never moves. “You can't just show up uninvited and insult my boys like this.”

Iehero’s eyes find Junko again and Yahaba feels his heart beat pick up in his chest.

“I wasted eighteen years raising him, fed and clothed him, and this is how he shows his gratitude? By performing abhorrent acts of perversion and bringing shame to me? I will speak of him however I please.”

“ _Perversion_ ,” Junko practically spits out. “Your son is happy, is that not enough?”

“My son, unfortunately, still represents me in some way. If the rest of our family or my colleagues find out about his sexual proclivities, it will reflect poorly on me.”

And at the end of the day, that's what it's always been about; how will this reflect on their family?  On his father, in particular. Yahaba had been little more than a marionette the first eighteen years of his life, and it's taken years more to unlearn the behaviors he previously relied on to survive in his father's home.

He wishes he could find his voice again.

“I'd be more worried about fixing that revolting attitude of yours.” Kyoutani seems to have many tiny women with big attitudes present in his life, his mother being front and center. “How dare you come in here...I can't stand pompous men like you with your outdated views and head so far up your own ass it's no wonder you seem so stuck up.” Iehero opens his mouth to retort, but Junko isn't done. “Shige-kun didn't ask to be born, you decided that for him. Yet you talk like he owes you a debt for your own decisions? A child is a fresh start at life, an agreement that we will help them grow into their own person. You don’t own him!”

Iehero's eyes narrow at her, obviously displeased to be talked to with such disrespect.

“I'm not here to argue opinions-”

“I do not care about anything you have to say,” Junko interrupts. Yahaba can't help but be impressed that she's completely unfazed by his discontent expression. He vaguely understands that his own fear is from years of subjugation, but it seems like such a trivial fact in the current moment. “You come into my son's home uninvited and unwanted and disrespect his partner. Do you even know anything about your own son, other than who he's seeing? Shige-kun is an amazing, kind-hearted young man and _I_ am proud to have him as a part of my family.”

Yahaba feels his heart swell.

Iehero is silent as he stares at her with what might be a grimace if he allowed his face a full range of motion. Yahaba knows exactly what must be going through his head about Junko.

“Just disown me and leave.” He's surprised to hear the words outside of his own head, though they're small, barely there.

He still looks away when Iehero looks back in his direction.

“I suppose I had hoped you might come to your senses and repent. Put these perverted fantasies behind you.”

_“Leave Kentarou to find a wife.”_

“Yes.”

“I'm not g-going to do that.”

He's not sure what's helping him find his voice. He thinks it might be the location, the woman in front of him, or maybe both.

He's so focused on his father that he doesn't notice Kyoutani's return until the bell on the door rings. The blond’s eyes look between them all, lingering on Yahaba before turning to Iehero with a murderous glare.

Yahaba hadn't noticed he'd started crying.

It's quiet for entirely too long, the only thing Yahaba can hear being the pounding in his ears.

He's never felt afraid of Kyoutani before, but right now the blond’s eyes are more intense than he's ever seen. He's thankful that he and Kyoutani are on such good terms because this must be the Kyoutani Kentarou that other people apparently see when they look at him.

“Who do you think you are? Coming into my house, terrorizing my family.” The resemblance between the Yahabas must be unmistakable because he knows Kyoutani has never seen Iehero before in his life. “You're not welcome here.”

Iehero regards him as though he's something filthy, but Yahaba doesn't miss the way his jaw tenses. His father's dominated him his entire life, so seeing him being the one who is intimidated for once is surreal.

“I have a right to see my own son.”

Kyoutani turns to Yahaba, his expression unchanging. “Shigeru?”

Yahaba swallows.

“...I don't want him here.”

Kyoutani grunts, his eyes back to Iehero instantly. “Get the fuck out of my house.” He yanks open the door to stress the point. “ _Now_.”

Iehero doesn't move, and Yahaba's sure it's only for a few moments while the man assesses the situation, but it feels like years. He's still tense when his father walks back to the door, cold eyes heavy on Kyoutani.

“Do not come back.”

“Not to worry. I no longer have a son.”

One moment, Yahaba's watching his father walk out the door, the next Kyoutani is in front of him, thumbs wiping the tears from his face with gentle hands.

With one deep breath he feels grounded again.

His father's final words register with him for the first time.

_You never have to see him again._

He should feel relieved, he knows he should. He should be ecstatic at the prospect of never having to be subjected to his father's scrutiny.

But the words are like a punch to his heart and he just can't help it. He's spent the majority of his life moulding himself into someone his father might approve of, if only a little. Finally, after years of disappointment he's done something so terrible that his father no longer considers him to be family.

_What have you done that’s terrible, though?_

He has to remind himself that this time, he's done nothing wrong. If Kyoutani is bad enough to be the last straw, that's fine. Someone like Iehero is not welcome as his family, either.

_“You can't just show up uninvited and insult my boys like this.”_

_“Who do you think you are terrorizing my family?”_

Yahaba doesn't feel okay. But he has a new family now and they don't come with unrealistic expectations and standards.

When Yahaba starts crying again, it's only partially because of his father.

Kyoutani is there for him. He always is.

Later that night after everything has settled and Junko’s gone home, Yahaba lays there with Kyoutani, staring up into his amber eyes. He must have quite the expression because the blond is blushing down to his chest.

“Ken, you have beautiful eyes.”

Kyoutani's eyes flicker away and the blush spreads further down his torso.

“ _You_ have beautiful eyes,” he grumbles.

Yahaba hums with a grin. “My eyes are an ugly brown.”

Kyoutani's eyebrows come together as he stares down at him.

“I love your eyes, idiot.”

Yahaba can't hide his full-blown smile, so he pulls Kyoutani down to rest their foreheads together, thumb stoking at the blond’s cheek.

“Kentarou, I love you so much.”

“Mmmm. Love you, too…”

Yahaba wonders if Kyoutani can hear his heart pounding in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and then an epilogue...it's wild, dude, I never thought I'd actually _write a story_. Yet here we are not even two months later.


	13. Thanks for the party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe you should see a therapist for all that negativity.”
> 
> “Maybe _you_ should see a therapist for that ugly face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to have this done by Wednesday and have the epilogue posted yesterday, but something happened and my whole week was kinda fucked up. So, happy holidays lol
> 
> There's some smut I didn't plan to write in the middle.

It's unreal, really, how when it's not one thing it seems to be another. The very next morning the surprise visit of last night feels like a bad dream and Yahaba's tidying up the shop while Kyoutani works in the back. His phone rings and it takes him a moment to realize that, no, he's not reading the caller ID incorrectly.

He answers the phone hesitantly, and the person on the other end seems just as tentative about replying.

“Yahaba-sensei,” the principal of the school who had fired him less than a month ago greets. He sounds uncomfortable to be making the call. Yahaba wonders what else the man could possibly want with him now. “It's principal Sano from the high school. I hope you're well, sensei. Do you have a moment?”

Yelling at the man is Yahaba's first instinct. He's still a professional adult, though, so he refrains from doing so. “I have a few minutes, yes.”

“Ah, good. I was actually wondering if you might be able to come in and discuss...your termination.”

Kyoutani's raising his eyebrow at him from the hallway.

“You'd like to discuss my termination,” he deadpans. Kyoutani moves towards him, leaning in close so that he can listen.

“A strange, request, I know.”

The two share a look, obviously confused.

“When would you like me to come by?”

“As soon as possible. Immediately, if you're available.” His speech picks up and he sounds almost panicked.

“I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Wonderful! We'll see you soon, sensei.”

Kyoutani doesn't seem very happy and he really can't blame him. Yahaba insists the blond stay behind and he reluctantly complies as Yahaba heads out to the school. He has no fucking idea what the school could want this time.

Coming up to the school gates he begins to notice that something is definitely off. It's eleven in the morning but there's a commotion behind the high fence that he can't see. The students should be in class right now.

Once he gets to the gates he's surprised to see the crowd of students standing around, several teachers frantically attempting to direct them back into the school. None of the students budge. Slowly, their eyes turn to him and the chatter increases through the crowd. Many of the teachers who notice him look away sheepishly.

Before Yahaba can make his way through the crowd there's a familiar voice calling to him. Sora pushes his way through the students.

“Haba-sensei! I can't believe they actually called you…”

“What the hell is all of this about?”

Sora’s normally blank face is uncharacteristically serious. “It took longer than I wanted it too, but I told you I'd take care of things. We found a bunch of other students from all over the school who were pissed off that you got fired.”

Yahaba glances around in disbelief at all the faces watching him.

“You staged a walkout?!”

“Yes. I also think we've managed to form a gay-straight alliance while we were at it…”

Sora looks almost offended when Yahaba bursts into laughter. He can't help himself, though, it's all just so much. He really does have some amazing students.

“I knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

“Honestly, most of it is thanks to my girlfriend. Apparently some of the other girls on the basketball team are bi or lesbian and they were already scared about it before you got fired. Then news of that spread and they were terrified...a lot of students were. It pissed Keiko-chan off. She's been screaming at the principal all morning.”

Sure enough, he can barely make out a heated, one-sided argument past the crowd.

“I can't believe you've managed all this…”

“They're going to give you your job back, right?” Sora sounds hopeful, but he's obviously nervous.

“I don't know. They might just ask me to disperse the students.”

“No.” He shakes his head for good measure. “We're staying here until they give you your job back, so don't let the principal fuck you over, sensei.”

Yahaba grins at him, patting him on the shoulder before making his way through the students. He can now clearly see Sora’s girlfriend giving the principal a piece of her mind. She's got several inches of height on him and Yahaba doesn't know if he's ever seen the man look so panicked.

Sano sees Yahaba approach and soon Sora’s girlfriend also notices, her complaints quieting.

“Sensei, so good of you to join us!” Sano straights up, clearly ready to be out of this situation. “If you'll excuse me, Suzuki-chan.”

He's quick to lead Yahaba into the building and they take the familiar route to the principal's office in silence. It's only been a few weeks since he was last here, but being back feels surreal. He'd like to leave as soon as possible.

“Thank you for coming in on such short notice, we do appreciate it.”

“Of course.” They take their seats. Yahaba looks the principal over, noticing the strain to his smile and the way he fidgets with his hands. He doesn't bother faking his own smile, electing instead to stare unamused at the man in front of him. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, well, I'm sure you've noticed the large amount of students who have decided to...demonstrate today. It seems a few are concerned that your termination may have been due to prejudice.”

Yahaba blinks at him, entirely unsurprised by his bullshit but offended anyway.

“Well, when it was revealed that I'm involved romantically with another man and I'm fired due to ‘ _concerns for student and staff safety and comfort_ ,’ I'd think that, yes, it was because of homophobia.”

“Not at all! There was only so much we could do with parent and staff complaints-”

“Complaints of having a male teacher in a relationship with another man. There's a word for that. It's homophobia.”

Sano opens his mouth to argue, but seems to think better of it. Yahaba isn't his employee any longer, he doesn't have to pretend to be nice. The difference in his demeanor seems to make the principal uneasy.

_Good._

“My boyfriend is a consenting adult who has nothing to do with this school or any other. Whatever problem there is, it's not my fault.”

“Sensei, surely you understand-”

Yahaba stands, already fed up. He shouldn't have bothered coming.

“I will not ask the students to disperse. Your actions have deeply hurt many LGBT students, telling them they aren't welcome. And I'll be sure to tell any reporter as much once this entire situation reaches the right people. Social issues spread quickly with the help of the internet these days, you know?” He plasters on his fakest smile, the one he knows people hate the most, on his way out the door. “It was good to see you, Sano-san. Good luck with the students. Bye~”

Walking away down the hall, he feels a bit lighter. He had replayed his being let go countless times in his head, turning the words around and regretting the things he had been too mortified and polite to say. He would have loved to direct more expletives at the principal, but if one of them had to be the bigger man, it was going to be him.

He didn’t feel as upset about the whole situation, either. At this point he was more upset for the actual students who suffered because of this.

How do they feel knowing a teacher was fired for being with another man?

Many of his friends had been disowned by their families for being who they are. How many of these children feared the same?

“Yahaba-sensei, wait!”

He doesn’t want to stop, there’s nothing he owes this man or this place, yet his feet find themselves firmly on the ground. When he turns around, Sano seems more frustrated than anything.

“I told you I won’t tell them to go back to class. I don’t even think they’d listen to me.”

The principal shuffles a bit, caught between speaking and thinking. Yahaba is patient.

“Listen…” The man takes a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. “I’m...I won’t pretend that I understand things like this, but I have thought a lot about it over these past few weeks. And I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I made a hasty decision because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t appease the people complaining, but...I will admit that it was a mistake, if the students are anything to go by. You’re a good man and a good teacher and your students obviously care about you.”

Yahaba folds his arms, not sure if he’s going anywhere with this. “Is there a reason you’re telling me this?”

“I just…” Sano bows. “I would like to offer you your position back.”

Whatever he expected to have happen, it wasn’t this. His first thought is _fuck you_ but he can’t help thinking back to the students outside, the ones he knows personally and the ones he doesn’t. He really does love his students.

When he returns home crying for the second time, it’s for a different reason.

 

* * *

 

Yahaba seems like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders after he returns home. Summer vacation for students is just a few weeks away so he'll be returning to his previous teaching position at the end of August, a month and a half away. It's a relief to know that he can go back to doing what he loves to do, but Kyoutani worries in the back of his mind that this could easily happen again. He knows he'll catch Yahaba if he falls again, but Kyoutani can't protect his pride for him.

“Ken, do you want chicken tonight?”

He looks up from his paperwork. Yahaba's hair is tousled from playing with the dogs so that Kyoutani could have some peace.

“Only if you're cooking.”

“I'm offering, dummy.” He leans down to kiss the blond’s forehead with a fond smile. “I wanna try something new. If you don't like it, then starve.”

Yahaba sticks his tongue out at him on his way out the door, and Kyoutani throws a cork coaster at him. Yahaba manages to shut the door in time, the coaster uselessly falling to the floor while Yahaba laughs triumphantly on his way down the stairs.

Yahaba always tells him not to worry about him. He can't help himself.

It is great seeing Yahaba calm down a bit now that he knows he'll be working regularly again soon. He goes from giving Kyoutani his space to taking advantage of their time together. Even though they bicker it all works out in the end. Whenever Yahaba does something wrong, he tends to apologize with food. When it's Kyoutani who messes up, he takes more physical action; cleaning up, doing laundry, snuggling up against Yahaba until he sighs in defeat.

Living with someone else is a constant compromise, but after three months of living with Yahaba it becomes second nature.

He's always concerned about pushing their relationship too far too fast. He wants to do things right, no matter how long it takes. He's constantly reminded that he's worrying too much; how could he possibly push Yahaba further than he's ready to go when it's Yahaba whose dictating the relationship and riding off at full speed?

He's staring at the brunette next to him with a blank expression, not quite sure he's hearing him right. Yahaba begins to fidget at his silence.

Kyoutani grins. “How much have you been thinking about this?”

“If you don't want to, _fine_ , I won't cry about it.” Yahaba glares at him, his cheeks faintly tinted pink in embarrassment. “You're the one who's going to feel it, so whatever.”

Kyoutani pulls a reluctant Yahaba closer to him. When he speaks, his voice is as low as he can manage to get it as he whispers in Yahaba's ear. “Tell me you want it.”

Yahaba refuses to look at him. He's usually so shameless it's honestly refreshing to see him acting so shy.

“I want you to fuck me raw, you sack of shit.”

He instantly regrets making him say it. They spend the rest of the evening reviewing their sexual history so that they both understand what they'd be getting into. They close the shop at lunch time the next day so that they can go get tested together. A little over a week later and both tests come back clean.

They're barely through the apartment door that night before Yahaba's pulling Kyoutani's shirt off. He kisses the brunette as hard as he can without hurting him, pulling at his sandy hair to keep him in place. Their shirts are on the floor and Kyoutani gets his hands down the back of Yahaba's pants as soon as they're unbuttoned.

He moans eagerly against Kyoutani's mouth, pressing their bodies together so that they can rub their clothed erections against each other. Kyoutani pulls his hands out of Yahaba's pants. Yahaba jumps up, wrapping his legs around the blond’s waist as Kyoutani easily catches his weight. They stumble into the first bedroom, mouths never parting for more than a moment.

Kyoutani dumps him onto the bed and they both remove their pants in record time.

“Lay down,” Yahaba commands once Kyoutani's retrieved the lube bottle.

He does as he's told, rubbing along Yahaba's thighs once the brunette has mounted him. Yahaba leans forward to kiss up his chest, biting at his neck. Kyoutani grabs at his ass with slicked fingers, directing his hips to rock against his.

Yahaba moans into his ear as the first finger enters him. It doesn't take very much for a second to fit, and the brunette rocks eagerly back into his hand, taking his fingers as deep as they'll go.

“I want you so bad.”

Kyoutani kisses his ear. “Another minute and you can have whatever you want.”

Three fingers in and Yahaba is noticeably antsy, more than eager to get to the next part.

“You want it that bad?”

“Shut up. I know you want it, too.”

Yahaba sits up suddenly, pulling off of Kyoutani's fingers reluctantly. The blond runs his hands up Yahaba's thighs and over his sharp hips appreciatively.

Yahaba slicks Kyoutani up eagerly. He lines them up, but stops there.

“You're sure this is okay?”

“We talked about this _all_ week. I trust you.”

Yahaba hums and there's a grin tugging at his lips. “I'm not sure, though, Ken...maybe we should take a few more weeks to think about it.”

Kyoutani scrapes his nails down Yahaba's thighs.

“Sit that ass the fuck down before I throw you out the window.”

Yahaba presses slowly down on the head of his cock to tease him some more. He finally sinks down slowly until he's seated completely, ass flush against Kyoutani's crotch. Yahaba already felt great, but as the hot wetness meets the bare skin of Kyoutani’s shaft, he's sure he's died. He'd like to throw away every condom they've bought because the thought of going back from this is laughable.

“Shit, Shigeru.” Yahaba rocks his hips back and forth pulling a moan out of him. “You feel…”

“Hmm? I feel what?” he teases.

_“Fuck.”_

Yahaba giggles to himself. He goes between rocking his hips and bouncing up and down the shaft, changing the pace as he sees fit. Kyoutani is content to let him do whatever he'd like.

“Ken, come here.”

He sits up carefully, Yahaba wrapping his arms around Kyoutani's shoulders. Their mouths meet again, tongues finding one another easily. His hands roam the expanse of Yahaba's pale back, feeling along the muscles and the bumps in his spine. They're pulled closer together and every inch of skin that rubs together feels like it's on fire.

Yahaba's grinding becomes more desperate, his kisses trailing off across his cheek until he's moaning into Kyoutani's ear.

“Ahh…Kentarou…”

Kyoutani brings one hand to wrap around Yahaba's cock.

Yahaba cums over his hand a few minutes later and the way his ass clenches has Kyoutani almost there, but what gets him is Yahaba’s breathless, “cum in me.”

And it's such a hyper masculine thing, to be so turned on at the thought of leaving himself inside of the brunette. He can't help it, though, and he bites down on Yahaba's shoulder as he releases inside of him.

They fall back into the pillows, Kyoutani's body feeling like it's floating in the clouds.

“That was good.”

Yahaba hums into against the crook of his neck. He can feel the smile cross the brunette’s face.

 

* * *

 

“Shigeru, if you don't hurry the fuck up we won't get there til their honeymoon’s over.”

As always, he's told to shut his fucking mouth. Kyoutani rolls his eyes so hard he hopes Yahaba can feel it in the bathroom. It's the last weekend in August and he knows they'll be late to Kakuji’s wedding. He's glad his brother thought ahead and gave guests an arrival time one hour early to account for situations like this. Everyone should do the exact same thing solely to compensate for his prissy, vain, self-absorbed boyfriend.

“You're beautiful, baby, so come _on_.”

Yahaba's head pops out from the bathroom door, his smile blinding as his cow-lick is momentarily forgotten.

“Aww, Kentarou~”

“I wouldn't be with an _ugly_ old man-”

He narrowly avoids the hair brush that's thrown at his head. Colonel runs towards the disturbance barking up a storm.

“ _Hey_. You're gonna dent the damn wall.”

“Then shut your bitch mouth.”

Kyoutani scowls at him, retrieving the brush before the dog can steal it and making his way down the hall towards the bathroom. Yahaba's leaning in the doorway dressed in his gray tuxedo looking too handsome for his own good. Kyoutani wants to punch the sly grin off his face when the brunette stops him from entering.

“Ken, do you know how hot you look?” Kyoutani glances down at himself, but he knows the black tux and red shirt haven't changed in the last five minutes. “How much time do we have?”

His scowl finds Yahaba again.

“We're already late cause of your stupid hair.”

Yahaba's hands find his chest, wandering intently over his torso. “C'mon, you don't have a little time for me…”

Kyoutani grabs him by the hips and shoves him back a step before Yahaba can kiss him. He holds him firmly in place.

“Shigeru, we can fool around later.”

Yahaba sighs in defeat with a roll of his brown eyes.

“Fine, fine. I'm ready to go.”

Kyoutani pulls him in for a chaste kiss. He grins at him. “Good. I have a surprise for you.”

That seems to get Yahaba's attention, and it definitely gets them out of the apartment quicker. Yahaba tries to pry the surprise out of him, but they don't have far to go and he tells him as much.

When Kyoutani stops just out of the shop’s front door with a grin, Yahaba raises an eyebrow at him, clearly not understanding. The blond pulls a keyring out of his pocket and presses a button. A few parking spaces down a brick red car that is definitely not his own unlocks. Yahaba's head whips to look at the vehicle and for a long moment, he's completely still.

“Kentarou.”

“Shigeru.”

“Ken, get the fuck out.” Yahaba finally turns to him with wide eyes. He doesn't seem to believe what he's seeing. “That's a fucking convertible Lamborghini Aventador. Who did you kill to steal a fifty million yen luxury vehicle and _why?!”_

Kyoutani knows he's grinning ear to ear, but he can't help it. Yahaba is practically vibrating with excitement.

“Told you Maru has a nice car.”

“ _A nice car?!_ ” Yahaba scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “We could live comfortably for _years_ for as much money as this fucking car costs.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy the ride cause we only got it for the day.”

_“No fucking way.”_

“I shit you not.”

There's a mischievous glint in Yahaba's eye.

The brunette is way too amazed by the butterfly doors. Kyoutani knows it's a nice car, but he'll always be more excited about motorcycles. The doors just seem excessive to him.

He does his best to ignore Yahaba's shameless leering once they're on the road. It gets a bit more difficult when there's a hand rubbing up his thigh.

“I'm driving.”

“Yup.”

They're finally stuck in congested traffic and Kyoutani's able to narrow his eyes at the brunette. Yahaba just bats his eyelashes at him like he's not groping his crotch.

“I think I've had a wet dream just like this.”

“You're an awful human being.”

Yahaba hums in response, leaning over the divider to kiss him intently. Kyoutani vaguely thinks that he shouldn't be letting Yahaba rub his erection in his friend's expensive car, but he's never been good at denying the brunette what he wants.

“I'm sorry. Let me take responsibility…”

 _Get a blow job in a Lamborghini_ is not something Kyoutani thought would ever go on his list of amazing sexual experiences, but surprises are always nice. Getting head while driving is usually a bit awkward, but of course Yahaba does it as though he was born to.

_“I did a lot of experimenting in college.”_

It must be a rich kid thing because Kyoutani's college life was way different ( _he_ spent most of his time studying and working).

Yahaba always seems more pleased with himself than he should after he's swallowed Kyoutani down. He doesn't even mind that they won't be able to take care of his own problem, he's too busy kissing along Kyoutani's jawline, too fucking giddy for his own good.

“You're so fucking gross, Shigeru.”

“You're _supposed_ to thank me.”

“If you kiss my mother with that sinful mouth, I will kill you.”

“I'm already hard, you don't have to talk dirty to me.”

The blond rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. He's been dreading seeing his family all morning but he's at least put Yahaba in an excellent mood. That alone is worth more than whatever his family could throw at them.

Once they get to the park where the wedding is set to take place he practically has to drag Yahaba out of the car.

“I'm sorry, Ken, but I'm leaving you for the Lamborghini.”

Yahaba finally relents. He fusses over their clothes and hair as though it's Kyoutani who has made them late.

“Stop scowling. I want everyone to see how handsome your ugly face is.”

Kyoutani scoffs, fully aware his ears are turning red. He grabs Yahaba's hands as they pull away from his bowtie and he doesn't quite meet his curious eyes.

“Hey…so, my family is all here. My dad, too.” He meets Yahaba's gaze with a squeeze to his hands. “It's a wedding, but they're gonna be assholes as much as they can be. If you don't wanna be all touchy and shit so they got less to bitch about, it's fine.”

Yahaba's smile is soft.

“I should be telling you that, stupid.”

“Shut up.”

Yahaba cups Kyoutani's face in his hands. “You're such a hardass but you're still so cute~”

“Not cute.”

Kyoutani shoves him away, storming off through the parked cars towards the gazebo. He can hear Yahaba laughing as he rushes to keep up with him. When there's an arm slid around his elbow, he pulls him closer, still scowling ahead of them.

“Is that...Zelda music…?”

Sure enough, Song of Storms on piano is reaching them through the speakers. Kyoutani wants to be surprised, he really does, but it's not hard to realize that Kakuji and his fiancee are giant nerds. The only reason Kyoutani knows the entire discography for the Zelda series by heart is because Kimi was obsessed with it.

“I told you their pianist canceled and Maru agreed fill in.”

“I thought that when Shinji told me she could play music for all of the classic Nintendo hits he was exaggerating. Everyone talks up their significant other.”

“No, she's just that much of a nerd.”

Really, he can't say anything because Yahaba is probably one of the biggest video game nerds he knows.

Junko spots them with her Mother Vision from the other side of the gazebo and makes a b line to greet them, Kakuji’s baby in her arms. She gives them both a kiss to the cheek and she's absolutely glowing.

“You two trouble makers are the last ones to arrive.” Her smile falters as she chances a glance over her shoulder. “Your father has been bringing down the mood. Luckily, though, he seems content to isolate himself from others, so hopefully he won't bother you two.” She's beaming at them again, pinching their cheeks. “You both look so handsome! I need to get pictures~”

“You look nice, too,” Kyoutani sighs.

Really, she does look great in her orange  dress.

“You fuck hole, you need to tell her she looks amazing.” Yahaba smacks the back of his head. There's not enough force to hurt, but he still considers the likeliness of getting away with ‘accidentally’ dropping cake on him later. “I'm sorry, Junko-san, you know how he is.”

“I'll let it slide today, hun. We're celebrating!”

Her shout is more of a stage whisper so as not to startle baby Hideo in her arms.

She gets a few pictures of them as best she can with Hideo pulling at the straps of her dress. They switch around a bit and it feels like it takes so long Kyoutani is about ready to sneak away. He hates getting dressed up for a reason and having Yahaba around seems to make it worse.

“Stop with that face. You should look thrilled to be here with me.”

“It's not all about you, Shigeru,” he scoffs. His mother rushes away with a curse to stop a group of unattended children, leaving Hideo in Kyoutani's arms, but he takes the opportunity to walk away regardless. She's got her hands full. Hideo won't be missed. “I hate weddings, I hate family gatherings, I hate dressing up, and I hate how these shit bags are lookin’ at you.”

“Maybe you should see a therapist for all that negativity.”

“Maybe _you_ should see a therapist for that ugly face.”

Yahaba pinches his side, but he can't retaliate much with the baby in his arms.

“Uncles! Uncles!” Kakuji’s five year old daughter runs up to them. She crashes into Yahaba's legs, hugging him as tightly as she can manage with her chubby little arms. “Uncle Shige, I'm gonna be a flower girl! Look, look!”

Sakura lets go to spin around in her white and yellow dress. After a few spins she falls back into him laughing.

“Oooo, you look so cute, Sakura-chan. You'll be the best flower girl your daddy’s ever had.”

“Well, duh. Hide-chan can't do it cause he can't walk yet.” She bounces up and down like she just can't restrain herself. “Uncle Shige, pick me up!”

Yahaba looks to Kyoutani with a pleading expression. Sakura is short and wide, just a bit heavier than Yahaba is comfortable picking up. _Wimp._

Kyoutani hands the baby off to him and picks the child up himself.

“Shouldn't you be with your mom or something?”

Her face scrunches in thought. “Weddings are supposed to be fun, but waiting around is boring.”

He pinches her cheek.

“There's gonna be food and dancing. You'll have a great time.”

“Kentarou, dear.” Junko hurries back to them with a crying child bouncing on her hip. He doesn't know whose kid this is but he doesn't see any concerned parents coming for him any time soon. “Sakura-chan needs to go back to her mother. Give her here.”

“Where's Chichi? I'll take her.”

The bride's tent is easy enough to find. Weaving through people he either doesn't know or doesn't like with a hyperactive five year old grabbing at his cheeks and ear piercings is the difficult part. No matter how many times it's explained to her, Sakura can't seem to grasp the concept of gauges, but she's fascinated nonetheless.

“I'm gonna have three weddings and there's gonna be a chocolate fountain.”

“Oh really.” He's only half listening as he pushes past bridesmaids to get to the opening of the tent. “Chichi? Delivery.”

“Kentarou-kun! Come in!”

Kyoutani complies, putting Sakura down with a stern look that he knows she'll disregard. Chizuru is pacing back and forth fanning herself rapidly. Her smile is strained but still manages to be as warm as always.

“Hello, hun, I'm so glad you made it.” She stops herself from giving him a hug, remembering he's not fond of being touched. He pulls her in himself with one arm in an attempt to comfort her. She seems pleased enough. “Thanks for bringing Sakura back. I'm about to tie her to a post.”

He grunts in lieu of a proper response. “You look like you're gonna hurl.”

“Oh, I'm about to just fucking die, I tell you what.”

“Regretting tying yourself down to Kakuji?”

Chizuru snorts with a smack to his shoulder. “Not yet, but let's give it time. Seriously, though, I don't think I can breathe.”

“You got your tits packed real tight in that dress.”

“Do you know how heavy these boobs are? You try being a fat little woman, you'll understand. These shoulder poufs give shit for support.” She turns around to show him all of her dress; it's a recreation of the Sailor Moon dress but much more detailed. “Isn't it lovely, though? I pricked the hell out of myself making this damn thing, but I did great work.”

“Better than Sailor Moon.”

“Damn straight!” She turns to a mirror to fiddle with her hair despite it looking just fine. “Hey. Do you ever worry that Yahaba-kun will realize that you're fat and ugly and snore like a motor boat and will just leave one day?”

He glances down at himself for a moment.

“No. But sometimes I worry he'll realize I'm not good enough for other reasons. Why, Kakuji say somethin? I can kick his ass for you.”

She laughs, though it's probably closer to a cackle.

“No, no, that won't be necessary. It's just always in the back of my mind since Sakura’s dad left. I got pregnant and his punk ass bolted.”

“Well, after today Kakuji will be legally bound to you. If he wants to leave, he's gotta go through a lot of bullshit to do so.”

She hums in agreement.

“Thanks again for getting a pianist, by the way. She was playing the Skyrim theme for me earlier and I think I fell in love. Oh! And thanks so much for the flowers. They're so damn expensive, I didn't know what we'd have done without your help.”

“It's nothin...I didn't know what to expect when Kakuji wanted to reconnect, but you guys have been pretty cool. Real nice to Shigeru.”

“Oh, honey...there’s no reason not to be.” She gives him a sad smile that tells him all he needs to know. “Kakuji had been talking about you for a while, you know. As he got older he really did regret not being there for you. He never expected you'd actually forgive him.”

He watches Sakura play with a doll she seemingly materialized out of thin air. She's doing a wonderful job ignoring everything they're saying, completely lost in her own world.

“I didn't really believe it at first, but in the end I guess nobody is the same person they were six years ago. I don't even know if I'm the same person I was two years ago.”

“Well, it really is nice having you here. Most of the Kyoutanis are assholes in the worst of ways. You're at least some fun.”

He rolls his eyes though he completely understands what she means.

The maid of honor pops her head into the tent. “Chichi, we need to get into position! Oh…hey, I think your boyfriend is looking for you.”

Kyoutani nods at her, turning to Chizuru to nod at her as well. Outside of the tent the rest of the guests are taking their seats and it's easy to spot Yahaba looking for him. He grabs Yahaba from behind, grinning when the brunette is startled.

“Fucking hell, Ken,” he hisses over his shoulder. “You run off, then you scare the shit out of me.”

He squeezes the brunettes waist. “I was gone for five minutes, calm your shit.”

They take their seats on the groom's side, Yahaba between Kyoutani and Junko at the end of the bench furthest from his father.

Chizuru’s mother enters after everyone is seated and takes her place on the bride's side. The chatter in the gazebo dies down and soon Kakuji makes his way to the altar. He looks both ecstatic and terrified.

Yahaba leans into Kyoutani's side to whisper at him. “Your dad was giving me the death glare while you were gone.”

“How'd you know he was my dad? I got uncles.”

Yahaba glances around Junko at the man sitting at the other end of the bench. They have the same tanned skin, the same nose, and intense amber eyes.

“I'm not blind, you shit.”

“Well, what the fuck you want me to do about it?”

“Kill him.”

Holding in his snort in an attempt to keep quiet hurts, and his mother shoots him a warning glare.

Once the groomsmen and bridesmaids are situated the piano music starts. He immediately recognizes Final Fantasy music, though he can't quite place which game.

“I'm gonna shove your nerdy brother in a locker.”

Junko elbows him in the ribs when Kyoutani begins shaking in silent laughter. Yahaba laces their fingers together in a nonverbal promise to behave himself. The brunette gets so invested in the ceremony that it isn't difficult. Of course he'd love weddings. _Of course._

When Chizuru gets to the altar Kakuji looks at her like she's the stars in the sky. Their other two brothers seem to hate their wives, so Kyoutani really is happy that Kakuji has found someone that he can feel so strongly about.

He squeezes Yahaba's hand.

After the ceremony they're ushered into another gazebo for wine and snacks. Junko introduces them to several family members Kyoutani has never met or hardly remembers. Surprisingly, very few of them seem off put by Yahaba shamelessly holding onto his arm. He catches Kazuya and his wife glowering at them from one side of the crowd. Yahaba smiles sweetly at them with a wave.

It's obvious that everyone is curious about the only gay couple at the celebration. Some of Chizuru’s family approach them to ask ignorant questions. Luckily, they mostly seem to miss Yahaba's snide remarks.

Everyone's seated around the room as Kyoutani is reluctantly dragged away with his parents and brothers for some stupid family entrance. He doesn't get why they need to be announced; nobody could mistake them for anyone else's family. Yahaba glares at him for scowling while entering, but he can't help what is face is naturally inclined to do. He's here to celebrate his brother's marriage, not make a good impression on anyone here.

Kakuji and Chizuru make their entrance to applause and cheers. They greet the room and recite their speeches, and Kyoutani wants to disappear into the floor when they specifically thank him for his help with the flowers.

With the way Chizuru grins at him, he knows she knows he hates the attention.

Yahaba's thrilled that there's salmon roe with the dinner. When he steals Kyoutani's the blond fixes him with a look but does nothing to stop him. They've been sat near some of Kakuji’s friends and Yahaba chats away with them about video games and movies. He's grateful not to be dragged into the conversation.

The toast feels like it goes on forever. Junko accidentally curses during hers, cutting herself off with a soft _“well, shit.”_ Chizuru’s amused cackle is followed by snickers through the gazebo.

Finally the dancing begins. The newlyweds share the first dance before the floor is open to the family. Junko drags each of her sons off to dance but takes Yahaba in Kyoutani's place. They spend their dance laughing and making faces at him. Chizuru steals Yahaba away as well, but after that the brunette stays seated well into the party. Even after dessert and photos Yahaba remains by Kyoutani's side, but his leg shakes the whole time like he wants to get back up.

“If you wanna dance, go do it.”

Yahaba narrows his eyes at him. “I'm staying right here.”

“Cut the shit. I know you wanna get up and move, so just go.”

“Nope.”

“Go dance with my damn mom or somethin.”

Yahaba shakes his head, stubborn as ever.

“Then who the fuck will you dance with, huh?”

“I want to dance with you, jackass.” The brunette rolls his eyes at him. “But I know you don't want to.”

Kyoutani's eyebrows knit together.

“Why didn't you ask?”

“If you wanted to, you'd have asked. But, like I said, I know you don't want to, especially since you _didn't ask_. I'm not going to make you do something you aren't comfortable with.”

He appreciates the thought, but sometimes Yahaba is so stubbornly stupid. Kyoutani stands up with a frown, taking his hand.

“C'mon, idiot.”

“No.”

“Shigeru, stop being so fucking difficult.” Kyoutani manages to pull him into a standing position, but he's still resisting. He sighs and when he speaks again it's soft. “If you wanna dance, then so do I. There's not a lot of time left, so dance with me. Please.”

Yahaba looks like he wants to protest, but finally gives in. He allows Kyoutani to drag him to the dance floor. Many of the guests are already partied out and back at their tables or outside the gazebo looking at the stars. He can tell that Yahaba's excited to dance together even if he's trying to hide it.

Kyoutani places his hand on Yahaba's waist and grabs his other hand. He's not familiar with slow dancing, but it's pretty much swaying while you look lovingly into your partner's eyes.

He hates that he can feel his face burning. He can't help it, though, with the way Yahaba's looking at him. It reminds him of the way Kakuji had looked at Chizuru while she walked down the aisle.

He's not sure who leaned in first. All eyes are probably on them, but right now whatever his family thinks is the last thing that matters. The only thing that matters is the two of them and the fact that Yahaba is just as soft as he always is.

Later in the night when they're sitting out on the fire escape with the smell of peanut butter wafting over them, he can feel Yahaba smiling against his lips.

“What're you so happy about?”

He knows he's smiling back. In the moonlight Yahaba's eyes seem to shine. Everything about him is beautiful.

“Well, you see, there's this guy I like a lot…”

“Just like?”

Yahaba hums as he brings their lips back together. He runs his fingers through Kyoutani's short hair.

“I think that I might be in love.”

Kyoutani wants to hide his face, but Yahaba rests their foreheads together before he can.

Kyoutani knows their relationship isn't perfect, nobody's is. But when they're together like this, he can't help but feel like no matter what, it'll work out in the end. After all, Kyoutani loves everything about Yahaba Shigeru, the good and the bad. Absolutely everything.

“Yeah. I think I might be, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically the end of the story and it's weird to think that all that's left is an epilogue. Slowly I'll be working on the stories for other couples and characters in the universe, but I'm not done with KyouHaba.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented, especially the two who commented every chapter. Y'all know who you are and this would have never been written in two months without you. Thanks to everyone who left kudos and encouraged me, I appreciate it! I've said it before, but I never thought I'd ever write anything. I know it's not perfect but it's a story I feel proud of.
> 
> Anyway... I'll take a little bit of time to work on the YakuLev story and get a bit written for the next KyouHaba story. It's a magical fantasy where Kyoutani and Yahaba are married after an attempt by Yahaba's father to start a war fails miserably. They play an ineffective version of hands free gay chicken that ends poorly for everyone around them. Truly a timeless romance to be told through the ages.
> 
> See you soon~


	14. Thank you for these five years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You get my house, my dogs, _and_ Terushima?”
> 
> “This entire relationship has been a ruse to get your dogs and your ex.”

Yuzawa is especially beautiful this year, a winter wonderland with powdery white snow as far as the eye can see. He's spent a while saving up enough to stay at one of the nicer hot springs for the week, all the way into new year’s weekend. It's new year's eve and the week has passed by quicker than he would have liked.

The lights of the other hotels litter the horizon and it's a beautiful sight against the blue of the snow under the night sky.

It's been four years and nine months since he and Yahaba first got together. It's amazing how time seems to fly yet crawls on like it's got nowhere to be.

The freeing air stings his skin, but he feels like he'll go crazy if he waits inside the room any longer. So he stays out on the balcony, arms resting against the wooden banister while he counts the lit windows of a nearby hotel. The mountain range off in the distance stopped being an adequate distraction ten minutes ago.

“Kentarou?” Yahaba's arms find their way around his waist and he rests his chin on Kyoutani's shoulder. “It's freezing out here and you're in sweatpants and a sweater.” Yahaba's lips almost burn when they kiss his ear. “Come back inside.”

He allows himself to be dragged back into the warmth of their room. Yahaba's lips are just as warm when they meet his and he pulls him closer to steal his heat.

“You're going to get sick again.”

“You'll take care of me, so it's fine.”

Yahaba rolls his eyes without any denial. His hand roams under Kyoutani's shirt, delicate fingers tracing the scar on his abdomen. It's an ugly, jagged scar from a hit and run accident the previous year. He knew that he was going to be okay even with the possibility of paralysis, but Yahaba had taken it the hardest. He cried when he got the call, he cried when he got to the hospital, he cried when Kyoutani was wheeled off to surgery, and he cried when he was able to walk on his own after several months of physical therapy.

“If you keep thinking this hard you'll start to gray.”

Yahaba knocks their foreheads together hard enough to cause an ache.

“Shut up. I'm having a moment and you're ruining it.” His hands move around Kyoutani's waist to bring him closer. “I could have lost you...it still hurts, okay?”

They stay like that for a long moment, neither wanting to pull away. To think, Yahaba used to be the one telling _him_ not to worry so much. Still, he knows Yahaba continues to blame himself. They had fought, Yahaba had left for a week, and then suddenly Kyoutani was in the hospital.

They haven't spent a single night apart ever since.

“You couldn't get rid of me if you tried.” He was going for humor but the remark is barely above a whisper. He scratches at Yahaba's scalp with one hand, rubbing his back with the other. “C'mon, now. Finish getting ready or we'll miss our reservation.”

Yahaba pulls away, looking him over curiously. “Reservation? I didn't think we were doing anything fancy this year…”

When Kyoutani grins it only seems to make the brunette more suspicious and he spends his entire time getting ready shooting glances at him. Yahaba has always both loved and hated surprises. He loves them when he doesn't know about it until it's happening. He hates having to consciously wait for them, but in the end that's half of Kyoutani's fun, getting to watch Yahaba squirm and work himself up.

Yahaba doesn't seem entirely surprised when Kyoutani takes him to the high-end sushi restaurant he's been eyeing for years, but his eyes light up nonetheless. “Get whatever you want” is always a given with them, but he reiterates it verbally just to watch Yahaba glare at him. It's obvious his mind is working overtime trying to figure out what game the blond is playing at; their anniversary is in spring, they've celebrated Kyoutani's birthday already and Yahaba's isn't for another few months, they don't count the day they got their proof of partnership papers as anything particularly special, and even if they did the one year anniversary isn't until the end of January.

Yahaba kicks his leg under the table and orders the most expensive sushi roll they have. He does take pity and refrains from getting the most expensive wine on the menu, but Kyoutani can see the temptation in his eyes. The bastard.

Nothing special happens during dinner, much to Yahaba's surprise. It isn't until they're walking through the snow that he finally gives up with a frustrated grunt.

“Kyoutani Kentarou, I know you're enjoying this!” He rounds on Kyoutani just in time to see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips. “You're lucky I love your mother so much, otherwise I'd kill you right now.”

“That's a pitiful excuse. She'd gladly take you as a replacement.”

Yahaba hums. “I couldn't take your place, though. I'd end up murdering half of your family.”

“It's what I would have wanted.”

Yahaba's laughing as he pulls Kyoutani further along. It's a cold night but the wind is calm so the walk feels peaceful. Even Yahaba isn't complaining about the chill anymore, instead huddling close with his arms around Kyoutani's for the closeness. Most people seem to want distance from their significant other the older they get, but Yahaba becomes increasingly clingy. Terushima jokes that if they become any closer they'll merge together permanently. He doesn't think it'd make much of a difference at this point.

“What could possibly be giving you that kind of expression?” He turns his head to see Yahaba staring at him, a look of worry on his face. “You look like you're contemplating something life changing…”

He can hear celebrations in the distance; nobody else is outside so late on new year's eve, instead partying the night away from the warmth of indoors. Yahaba's hair is messy from the wind that blew earlier. He's frowning at Kyoutani, no longer irritated at his secrecy but rather concerned.

Four years, nine months and he's still worried that he could do anything to push the man away.

“You're still as beautiful as when I met you, you know.”

Yahaba's eyes widen and in the brightness of the moonlight reflecting off the fresh snow he can clearly make out the color of his irises; a unique light brown reminiscent of a sandy beach.

“Kentarou. Whatever you're doing, get it over with already.”

Kyoutani pulls Yahaba's hand up to glance at his wrist watch; three minutes to midnight. He had intended to start a few minutes sooner, but it can't be helped now. He turns to face him head on, pulling Yahaba’s gloves off and shoving into into the oversized pockets of his parka before firmly grasping Yahaba's bare hands.

“Ken…?”

“Shigeru. We met six years ago in the winter when you came into my shop. After that, I couldn't get you out of my fucking head no matter what I did or who I was with. I didn't think I'd ever actually get a chance to be with you, and when I did I wasn't sure if I could be what you needed me to be. But here we are almost five years later...I don't even think we ever talked about being in a relationship, we just suddenly were and we both knew it. I, uh, I didn't really think I could ever feel for anyone what I feel for you.”

Yahaba's eyes are glassy, his lips pressed together in a tight, trembling line. Kyoutani has to rub his thumbs over Yahaba's fingers to get him to loosen his hold. In the distance people have been cheering for the start of a new year, but that all seems so far away.

“We're both assholes in our own way, but what we have, it somehow just...works. It's always just worked with you. The day of my accident, I didn't fucking care if I'd walk again, I was too busy thinking of how upset you'd be when you saw me. Then when I was in physical therapy, and you learned how to drive so you could help me...everything you've done for me means so much. I don't tell you enough how much you  mean to me.”

“Y-you don't need to…”

“You know you like hearing it.” Yahaba nods, a few tears falling down his cheeks. “I'd probably do anything for you, no matter how stupid.”

“You already do stupid shit.”

Kyoutani chuckles softly. He lets go of Yahaba's hands so that he can dig around in his pocket. Once he feels what he's looking for, he kneels down in the snow.

“Ken…?”

“Hush, I'm being romantic.” It's clear that whatever Yahaba thought would be happening, it sure as hell wasn't this. Kyoutani pulls the little black box from his pocket and flicks the lid open with his thumb. He lifts the box so that Yahaba can clearly see the silver band with its flower engravings. “We can't get married, but you're still the most important p-part of my life and I want to ask you to stay with me. Shigeru. Will you accept this ring?”

Yahaba only made it halfway through the speech before he can't keep the tears at bay. He's doing his best to hide his face behind his hands but the trembling in his fingers and shoulders gives him away.

Kyoutani waits, still kneeling in the wet snow until Yahaba gives an enthusiastic nod.

He finally gets up to grab Yahaba's left hand and slip the silver band onto his ring finger. He knows it's the right size but seeing it fit perfectly over the brunette’s slender finger is a relief.

Yahaba looks from the band to him like he's not sure which is more captivating at the moment. Kyoutani wipes the brunette’s wet eyes as best he can.

“I c-can't fucking believe...you, of all people…”

“Told you I'll do anything for you,” he grumbles.

Yahaba wraps his arms around the blond’s shoulders. His eyes are red but Kyoutani doesn't think he's ever seen him look so damn happy.

“You're such a dick but I love you so much.”

“Thanks for reminding me. You only tell me twice a day so I almost forgot.”

“I take it all back. I hate your fucking guts. I'm canceling this engagement, pawning the ring, and you're kicked out of the apartment. I don't want you bothering my three children or Yuuji ever again.”

“You get my house, my dogs, _and_ Terushima?”

“This entire relationship has been a ruse to get your dogs and your ex.” Yahaba pulls back when Kyoutani tries to kiss him. “Eww, no, I think my nose is running! Gross!”

Kyoutani kisses him anyway. The brunette stops struggling and kisses him back, holding him in place until they need to part for breath.

“Kentarou, I can't imagine any part of my future without you in it.”

Kyoutani looks away, his face heating up. Yahaba cups his face in his freezing hands while he laughs at him.

“You just gave me an essay about why you want to be with me for the rest of our lives, but when I tell you the same thing in ten words or less, _then_ you get embarrassed?”

“Was more than ten words…”

“You're so fucking cute~”

Kyoutani squeezes the breath out of him in retaliation, but all Yahaba does is laugh.

It's cold as fuck but they're warm enough together. A ring is the best Kyoutani can do for now, but with the way Yahaba is glowing, he knows it's enough.

They're all they need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're officially done! Thanks again for reading. I'll be posting more shorts for them in this universe down the road, but it's still so bizarre that I've finished a real, short-novel length story.
> 
> I hope you'll give All The Small Things a shot, and if not maybe I'll see you next month in The Wolf King (such a creative title, right???).

**Author's Note:**

> Fic updates Sat/Sun and randomly during the week when I can write more.


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